


I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

by ToxikCherrys16



Series: The Monsters They Made Us [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Angst and Feels, Badass OFC, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky falls from the train, Captain America: The First Avenger Compliant, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Protagonist, Fluff and Smut, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra are dicks, Hydra experiments, Kidnapping, More tags to be added, Original Character is a Spy, Romance, Sexual Content, Steve saves the day, Super Soldier Serum, The Winter Soldier is Born, Torture, Violence, You May Cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:38:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxikCherrys16/pseuds/ToxikCherrys16
Summary: *COMPLETE* I wish it need not have happened in my time, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us - JRR Tolkien, LOTR. Disclaimer - I DO NOT OWN MARVEL OR CAPTAIN AMERICA.





	1. The Pub in London

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys and gals. Here is a new story. Hello to the new, and welcome back to the old (I'm channeling my inner Dumbledore here.)
> 
> Today, is my 5 Year mark. It's officially been 5 Years since I self-harmed, so I decided that I would post a new story on the anniversary (January 21st). I got a tattoo last week to commemorate it - it's the anti-possession tattoo from Supernatural, with the words 'Always keep fighting.'
> 
> Anyway, on with the story. The next chapter will be up on Friday, and then every Friday after. Please R&R or comment if you want. I love hearing from you guys.
> 
> On my Tumblr. I will post a picture of the actress I'm using as inspiration for Regina. It's Katie McGrath.
> 
> T.C
> 
> WARNING!!!!! This story has Sexual Content in it (but only in this chapter), and has scenes of kidnap, torture, and death. You have been warned.

** Chapter 1  **

** The Pub in London  **

 

 

    I was sitting in one of my favorite pubs in London, drinking a pint of beer, on one of my last free nights in England. See, I was being shipped off to France, before slowly working my way into the heart of Germany. No matter what anybody tells you, my job is way scarier, and a hell of a lot more dangerous than any of the soldiers that go out to fight, but I can't tell anyone what my actual job is. You never know who is listening to your conversations.

    And just when I thought that I was going to be sitting at the bar for the night, alone, somebody took the seat to my right. He ordered a scotch on the rocks, took his hat off, and leaned on the bar; his army uniform bunching up slightly when he leaned forward on the stool. Looking at him, I guessed that he'd just arrived in England, given that he was in his full dress uniform and the time difference between here and America – which is where is uniform suggested he was from.

    "What's a good-looking dame like you, doing all by yourself, in a place like this?" He asked, looking over at me, taking a sip of his drink. His dark hair was short, and he had these piercing blue eyes that captivated me.

    “Nobody to drink with.” I smiled, “I can’t really think why people would be scared to come outside. Do you have an idea?”

    He got a serious look on his face, but I could see the slight upturn of a smirk on his lips. "I can't think of why that might be. It's a complete mystery." He joked, only staying serious for a couple of seconds before we both burst out laughing, "Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but people call me Bucky."

    “Regina Elizabeth Larson.” I shook his outstretched hand, “Some people call me Beth, but it’s only a select few who are allowed to call me that.”

    “Could I be considered one of those ‘few people’ who gets to call you that?”

    “That depends.” I hid a sly smile behind my glass, as I took another drink, “Are you going to keep in contact after tonight, Sergeant? Or are you more of a love ‘em and leave ‘em?”

    “Depends on the girl.” He leaned closer to me, “And you, are definitely the most interesting dame I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Also, I wouldn’t say no to more than one night. Beauty and brains are hard to come by, and you, Doll, have both. I haven’t met many dames with a quick sense of humor.”

    I didn't have to look in the mirror behind the bar to know that there was a blush rising on my face, and James knew it too. Oh, he is good, and he knows it. He knows exactly what he's doing, but I don't care. He made me laugh.

    “So, what do you do, Miss Larson?”

    "I'm a nurse." That is one way of putting it, one thing learned early on, was to never hesitate when telling a lie. To know your cover story like the back of your hand, because if you make a mistake, it could be what gets you killed, or worse – captured. But telling him I was a nurse wasn't an exact lie either. My mother was a nurse, and I learned nearly everything I needed from her.

    “Sounds exciting. You working in London, or are you just visiting?”

    “I’ve been working at a local hospital for just over a year. They needed some extra hands during the Blitz, but I’m not needed here anymore, so they’re sending me off to France next week.”

    It was so easy, talking with Bucky. He made me forget about all the shitty things that had happened to me over the past year, and it felt amazing, to not have that massive ache in my chest. But it’s a war, people die. Didn’t make it any easier to deal with though.

    “Don’t you have to speak French though?”

    “ _But I do._ ”

    His eyes widened a little, and his mouth opened slightly in an almost a childlike wonder. “I have no idea what you just said, but that was so sexy.”

    A smile spread across my face. "Dad spoke French, and mum's parents were both French as well. Everybody in our little family learned how to speak at least one other language.” I told him, “It does come in handy when looking for a job, or somebody comes into the hospital not knowing a word of English.”

    "Well, aren't you just full of surprises, Doll? You're putting me to shame." He looked directly at me, his blue eyes boring into my pale green ones, "I can hear my mama yelling at me from Brooklyn."

    “Oh. And what’s she saying?” Not taking my eyes off him.

    "She's telling me, not to let you go, because I'm never going to find a better person, than the one sitting right in front of me."

    “If that’s your way of asking me out, then I accept.”

    He threw his arms up in the air; a grin on his face. I couldn't help but laugh at his actions because he looked so cute when he did it. And I didn’t plan on letting this gift go if I could help it.

    What felt like hours later, we were still talking, but it wasn’t about anything in particular. We talked about the unit he was stationed with, when he was shipping out, the weirdest patient I’d ever had. We’d ordered another round, and were slowly drinking our way through the drinks.

    As the night wore on, the closer we ended up sitting to each other; our shoulders and legs bumping into the others. And the joking and flirting continued, steadily getting less and less subtle as the night wore on. I wasn’t prepared to let this night end, and I didn’t plan to let it.

    “Do you have to go back to base?”

    "Well, I don't think I have anything going on tomorrow." He replied, turning his head to me, "What do you have in mind?"

    "That maybe you could stay the night with me." I whispered into his ear, "And if you get into trouble, you can say that you were having a checkup with your nurse. You can't be too cautious with your health."

    I could see a smile forming, but he didn't say anything. He threw a couple of bills on the table and put an arm round my waist. "Then let's get going, Doll." And he placed a kiss on my lips.

 

**~oOo~**

 

    By the time we made it up to my room, we were already making out. He’d grabbed my legs, and hoisted me up; my legs wrapped round his waist, and my fingers tangled in his hair, while his hands rested on my hips, and not once did we break the kiss.

    We made the decision to come back to my hotel, because one, there was no way we could sneak onto the base, and get away with what we had planned. Two, somebody may recognize me, and not be able to keep their mouth shut. And three, we didn’t have to worry about cleaning up after we were done. I wouldn’t have minded him coming to mine, but I didn’t have a home. It had been completely destroyed in the Blitz, and I wasn’t in the country long enough to actually considering it worth the money to buy one.

    Trying to open the door proved to be a slight problem, and I almost gave in – coming to the conclusion that we could just do it in the hallway – when Bucky was able to get the key in the lock and get the door open before I completely lost my mind. I could feel him smirk slightly against my lips at my frustration.

    “Eager, Doll?” He asked, kicking the door shut, and pulling the pins out of my hair; letting it tumble down my back.

    “Very much so, Sergeant.” I breathed, pulling at the knot of his tie to loosen it, “This needs to go, and so does this, and this.” His tie came off, and I threw it wherever, and then started on the buttons of his shirt and jacket.

    "Well, it can be easily rectified." He walked to the bed, placing me on it, and then worked on getting both garments off; throwing them across the room, just like I'd done with his tie, "But I think it would only be fair if I get to undress you as well."

    He looked incredible, with the dark hair, the light eyes, and the six-pack. He was a real catch. How lucky am I, that he decided to sit next to me in the pub? I am really happy that I decided to go out, instead of just sitting in this room by myself.

    His hand slowly traveled from my knee, up to my thigh; gripping the hem of my red dress, and pushed it up over my underwear and my head. My dress then joined the rest of our discarded clothing, and Bucky just stared at me. I knew what he was looking at, besides the obvious, of course.

    My friend, Howard, had hopped over the pond on SSR business – I’d just liberated Doctor Abraham Erskine, and he was being sent over to America to help, while I was helping to escort him – and I ended up ranting about how you could have all the sexy clothes you wanted, but the underwear never did it any justice. So before being sent home for another mission, Howard took it upon himself to make something for me. It was lacy, very exposing, sexy, and exactly what I was thinking of. He said it was a present for being a friend, science buddy, and amazing wing woman.

    “Like what you see, Soldier?” I sat up, unbuckling his belt and removing it.

    “You have no idea how much I’m liking this, Doll.” He replied, toeing off his shoes and taking off his trousers, “But let me say this, I am enjoying this very much, and there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

    “I can tell.” I looked down at the tent of his underwear, and pulling him down to meet my lips, “I’m enjoying this a lot as well. In fact, I don’t want this night to end. Maybe I’ll just lock you up, and never let you leave.”

    “Well, I wouldn’t mind that at all. Not one bit of me would object.” He flipped us over; sitting up, and pulling me closer to his body.

    We kept on kissing, only pulling away when we needed to breathe. His hands ran up and down my back, and pulled me ever closer to his body; squeezing my ass when he got to it. My hips were working of their own accord, but judging by the soft moans coming from the both of us, there was going to be no complaints.

    When Bucky started kissing my jaw and moved down my neck, I threw my head back and gave a breathy moan. He expertly unhooked and removed my bra in one smooth movement.

    “You’ve done this before.” I moaned, lacing my fingers round the back of his neck as he moved lower onto my chest.

    “I know a thing or two about a bra.” He mumbled into my chest, sucking gently on my skin, “I do have three younger sisters, and being the oldest, I sometimes had to bring the washing in.”

    He flipped us over again, before going straight back to kissing and sucking down my chest; one goes his hands running down the side of my ribcage, and leaving hickeys on my skin. I grabbed the nearest thing to me – which was a pillow – and pulled as I arched my back into his touch.

    More moans escaped when he started working on my tits, squeezing them, and pulling on my nipples. I was beyond speaking. It just felt too damn good. So I hoped that my moans were enough to tell him how I felt.

    Then his hands traveled lower; catching the hem of my panties, and dips his hand lower. He only traced the edges of my lips with his fingers, before retracted them and doing it again.

    I was almost and actually became, breathless by the time he actually pushed one of his fingers into me and used his thumb on my clit. My hips jerked; jolts of something I'd never felt before making it hard to keep still, but it felt so good. He added another finger, and I let out a small, pained gasp.

    “You okay, Doll?” He asked, concerned.

    “Yeah.” The pain passing, “Just the first time I’ve ever done anything like this. It feels amazing though.”

    “Don’t worry.” He kissed my lips, and slowly moved his fingers until it didn’t hurt anymore, “I’ll look after you. But if you wanna stop, at any time, just tell me. We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.”

    “I’m okay.” I hooked one leg over his waist, gasping at the change of angle, “Holy shit, that feels good."

    My grip on the pillow didn’t let up, as his fingers moved deeper into me. He kept the pace slow and steady, and a slight pressure was making itself known from deep inside me. Now while this was my first time, I’m not stupid. I knew what was going to happen, and I knew it was going to be soon.

    “James… James...” I panted, moving my hips in time with his fingers; the pressure building and building, as I started to tighten around him.

    “That’s it, Doll.” He murmured, putting just a little more pressure on my clit, “Just let go. It’s alright.”

    And I did; gasping, quivering, and clenched around his fingers. He kept moving them through the waves of pleasure until it was almost too much for me to handle; only stopping when he brought me to another orgasm. One that was just as amazing, and mind-blowing as the first one.

    By this time, I was already on Cloud 9; my chest heaving up and down, and sweat beading down my face. I gave a little moan when he removed his fingers, missing the feeling of them. I wanted to whine, tell him to put them back in, but I knew that wouldn’t work, and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of making me beg, no matter how much I wanted to.

    I saw him smile on his face before he started kissing up my body – from stomach to lips. Even though I was still trying to catch my breath, I kissed him back with all the might I could.

    “You ready, Doll?” He asked, lining himself up with my entrance, “Remember, if you’re not, we don’t have to.”

    “I’m ready.” I looked into his ice blue eyes above me, placing a hand on his cheek and wrapping both my legs round his waist, “Never have I been more sure.”

    He leaned down to kiss me as he pushed in; stopping every couple of short, slow pushes to let me adjust to his size. I just gripped onto his back; letting out gasping moans, and hardly noticing when he broke through the thin barrier that made the difference between me being a virgin and not.

    If I thought having his fingers in me was amazing, then I didn't even know how to describe this because this was better than amazing. I threw my head back and moaned; rotating my hips when James pushed in again.

    His hand trailed down the side of my body, and up my thigh. He was moaning as well, as he pushed in; only sliding deeper into me when he thought I was ready for it, and oh how I liked it. It didn’t take long for another orgasm to roll through my body, and for us to change position.

    Bucky sat with his back against the headboard, and my legs on either side of his legs; my fingers tangled in his hair, and his hands on his hips, pulling me closer. I couldn't even explain the feeling I got, but the angle was even better than the first.

    My thighs started to tremble on either side of him, as I slowly lowered myself onto his cock; rotating and grinding against him. I was gasping and moaning, almost in sync with Bucky; his eyes on me the whole time. And I’m pretty sure they stayed on me, even when I put my head against his shoulder.

    This wasn’t having sex. No, this wasn’t hard and fast. This was making love. Slow. Deep. Intimate. We both knew this, yet neither of us tried to change it. And we were content.

 

 **~oOo~**  

 

    We were still in bed a couple hours later. I was feeling very sleepy, but I didn’t want to fall asleep for fear that when I woke up, he wouldn’t be there. I didn’t want this to be some cruel dream, where I’d wake up alone, or that this was just a way of coping with being held prisoner, in some Nazi stronghold after being captured.

    My head was laid in the crook of his chest and shoulder, my right hand resting on his bare breast, while he played with my long black hair, and our legs entwined together. I wouldn’t have minded falling asleep like this, but like I said, I was scared of this just being a dream.

    "My brother," I whispered to him, looking at his angelic face.

    “Hmm?” He looked down at me.

    “I was in the pub for my brother.” I repeated, adding a little more information, “He died a year ago… In fact, over the past couple years, both my parents and my two brothers have died. I’m the only surviving member of the Larson family. Also the youngest of them as well.”

    He rubbed a soothing hand down my back, and pulled me closer to his body, with silent tears running down my face; the hot, salty drops landing on his chest when they ran out of cheek to roll down. Because of what I do, I hadn’t been given a chance to cry. So I’d bottled it all up, pushed it aside, and never revisited it; preferring to keep it bottled away.

    But all the emotions were being let free now. I was left shaking, gasping, and hanging into Bucky like he was my anchor. Like he was the only person keeping me grounded, while I cried.

    “I’m sorry.” I sobbed, clinging onto him even more, “I’m not normally like this, I promise.”

    “It’s alright. It’s okay. Just let it out.” He kissed the top of my head, and continued to rub my back, “I’m not going to judge you. I got you. I got you. You’re all right. It’s okay to cry.”

    After a few minutes, I got my crying under control. Bucky wiped the remaining tears from my face; looking at me with such love in his eyes. Yeah, he was definitely, what my mum would call, a keeper.

    “I know this will sound really strange, but I think my family had something to do with us meeting.” I smiled, taking his hand in mine, “Almost like they guided us towards each other.”

    “It’s not weird.” He replied, kissing the top of my head again, “I was having the exact same thoughts."


	2. Staring Down A Loaded Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people. This is the next chapter. There's more plot in this one, ends on a cliff hanger - sorry in advance - and shit basically gets real. You learn more about Regina, and you meet four of the Howling Commandos in this chapter.
> 
> I have also changed the dates round a bit. I know in the MCU, Steve goes through Project Rebirth in the June of '43, but I have changed it to the February of '43. I just think that Steve wouldn't have been to all these places on tour, and then go to the troops, and goes on a rescue mission in just over 4 months. Hate me if you must.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to those who've reviewed, commented, favourited and all that jazz. Please R&R or comment if you want, let me know what you think.
> 
> T.C
> 
> PS. What did you think of the smut? Just wondering, cause it's the first time I've written anything like that, apart from the two lines of minuscule smut in Out of the Dark. I was literally bright red for the two days it took me to write it.
> 
> WARNING!! This chapter contains a scene of kidnapping.

** Chapter 2 **

** Staring Down A Loaded Gun **

 

 

   Three days later, I was standing on the dock with Bucky, along with some other families who were saying goodbye to their loved ones. Even though I didn't want him to leave, I knew he had to, and I was just glad it happened before I had to leave. He'd be far away with his unit in Italy by the time I ended up in the midst of the Nazis; collecting information to aid the allies in ending the war, once and for all.

    Bucky had been called over by a couple of his friends, while I stayed where I was. I didn’t want to intrude on anything, and there was also the possibility that he didn’t want to introduce me to anybody just yet. I didn’t have anybody to tell about him – apart from Peggy, Howard, and Abraham – but I also couldn’t mention them to Bucky without telling him what my actual job was. Sometimes it sucks being a spy.

    But I was wrong about him not wanting people to know about me. He was soon making his through the crowd - in full dress uniform - with two others. One was in a bowler hat and had an impressive mustache, while the other had a wide smile that stood out against his skin.

    “So you’re the girl he hasn’t shut up about?” The one in the bowler said, “We owe the guys some money. We didn’t believe you were real.”

    “Described you as an angel.”

    “You know, I can almost see your halo.” They joked, Bucky slowly starting to blush a light shade of pink, “But if you don’t mind me saying, his description of your beauty doesn’t do you any justice. You far exceed all expectations.”

    It was my turn to blush, going an even darker shade than Bucky. “He talked about me?”

    “Wouldn’t shut up about you. Some of the boys were ready to kill him.” He told me, “Others think he was going to run off and elope with you.”

   "But it wouldn't feel right without Steve, and my ma would hit me with her broom if she wasn't there. Dum Dum, Gabe. Meet Regina Larson." He took my hand when introducing us, "Lizzie, meet Dum Dum Dugan, and Gabe Jones. We trained together at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin.”

   "It's lovely to meet you both." I shook their hands and smiling at the nickname that Bucky had given me after he learned how much I hated being called Gina and didn’t want to call me Beth, “I wish the circumstances were better, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

    We stood and chatted for a few minutes before the whistle blew, and it was time for them to leave. Bucky gave me a long, slow kiss; not wanting to let go of my hand, but knowing he had to.

    “I’ll write to you first. I won’t have a permanent address for a few weeks, so a friend has said they’ll get my post to me.” I told him, running my thumb over the back of his hand, “You can’t get rid of me easily. I’m like glue.”

    He laughed, kissing my cheek. “I promise you, Doll. First break away from the one-oh-seventh, I’m going to spend it with you. I’m going to find you, and spend however long I have, doing all the things I wish I could do with you now.”

    “I look forward to it.” I kissed his lips, straightened his tie and his hat, “Now, get going Soldier. Go kick some Nazi ass.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” He stepped back, saluted me, and ran off towards the boat; the other soldiers wolf whistling and whooping. I could see Gabe and Dum Dum smiling and clapping on the deck.

   Even after the ship started moving away from the dock, I didn't move. I was too busy waving to Bucky, Dum Dum, and Gabe. In fact, I stayed on the dock long after the boat was out of sight; knowing full well that that could have been the last time I'd ever see them.

 

**~oOo~**

 

   Five days after waving Bucky off, I was traveling to France to spend a few weeks working in a hospital. I wasn't meant to, but the hospital ended up being a little short-handed after a few bombs were dropped near the border, and all hospitals nearby got swamped with patients, so my few days, turned into a few weeks. I thought ‘why not? I'm going to be a monster for the foreseeable future, so why not help while I can?"

    The talk with boss went better than expected, mainly because he was already going to ask me if I could help. Sometimes it has its advantages of actually being a trained nurse, and having a mother who did the same thing before her death. My whole family taught me skills to help me, like how to rebuild a plane engine and other minor repairs, hand-to-hand combat, how to handle weapons, basic wilderness survival, and how to be a thief – among many other things. I’m not just a pretty face.

    But it gave me a lot of interesting things to put into my first letter to Bucky. In the midst of the screaming and rapid French being spoken, a lone, English voice reached my ears. It was a welcome relief to hear it after hearing and speaking nothing but French for the past two weeks.

    His name was James Montgomery Falsworth, but I called him Monty for short. He’d been doing a training jump and landed wrong, so he’d earned himself a few days in the hospital with a bruised ankle, and a wonderful eight weeks recovery at home; just in time for Christmas.

    And soon my time as a nurse came to an end, and it was time to start my actual assignment. When I was on my own, and when I lost everybody I cared about, it was easier to get the job done. But now I had somebody, I found myself getting anxious about the task ahead.

    Though no matter how nervous or anxious I was, I still had a job to do. I couldn’t put anything in my letters about what I was doing, so most of it became lies about the hospital or people that I met.

    I talked about my family quite a lot. How my father, Henry, and oldest brother, Edward, had been pilots – my father in The Great War – and that they’d taught me about planes. How my other brother, William, had thrown himself onto a grenade to save his unit. And my mother, Eleanor, who’d been a nurse in the trenches, and then went on to teach when she came home and had me.

    In return, Bucky talked a little about his family – his father, George, his mother, Winifred, and his three sisters – but he mainly talked about his best friend, Steve. Small, skinny, and enough health problems to keep a doctor occupied for life – he never walked away from a fight.

    Bucky told me how he’d saved little Steve Rogers from some bullies trying to steal his money, and the two had been friends ever since. They’d gotten into many scrapes over the years, but Steve remained adamant that if you started running, they’d never stop chasing you.

    This went on for months, and just when I thought I was going to run out of things to write, I met a mad, French fellow, called Jacques Dernier. Although I couldn’t mention that he was part of the French Resistance – in case my letter got intercepted – but he was quite the character.

   I'd met him while I was waitressing in a bar that frequented a lot of high profile Nazis, and it was amazing the things they talked about in public. I think he was seeing where the best place to plant a bomb would be, and using some slight of hand, I was able to hand him a note in French, and our friendship carried on from there.

   We met for coffee once a week, always a different place and time to avoid suspicion, and have less chance of being caught, and never arriving together. Exchanging information took time and had to be done in code because ‘careless talk costs lives' and all, but we found a way. And we also had a pact that if one of us was late, we were to leave immediately.

    Everything was going great. I couldn’t really complain about much, apart from my handler. Same time, same day, every week, they’d come to my little flat to collect what information I’d managed to gather. Many times over the past couple of months, I’d told her she was being too obvious. To change the time, the day, the meeting point, but she never listened.

    “I know what I’m doing." She always said, “You have nothing to worry about. We’re just two friends, having lunch together. Nothing’s going to happen.”

    But I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. I’d managed to warn Jacques not to come to our weekly meeting because I had a suspicion that I was being followed. And if I wasn't being followed, I was definitely being watched very closely.

    “You’ve got to get me out. I don’t think I’m going to make it another week.” I told my handler, on yet another predictable visit, “Something is going to happen to me at some point in the next couple of days.”

    “You’re just being paranoid.”

    “No, I’m not. I think I’m being followed.”

    And just like all the other times, I was ignored. Nothing I was saying seemed to penetrate this woman’s head. All she wanted was the information I'd managed to collect over the past week and get out of there. It was always the same. The safety of your spy should be important, but she didn't seem to care.

   However, I was wrong about anything happening to me that week. My handler came in saying that she had been right and that I was just being paranoid, but I still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling I had. It wouldn't go away, and I'd learned to trust my instincts over the years.

    Jacques noticed my odd behaviour. He believed what I was saying, as he'd thought the same thing. Both of us were being watched. The only difference was that the Resistance actually believed what he was saying, while I was, apparently, just crazy to actually think such a thing. And in the second week of March, something did happen.

   My useless handler had only left about an hour previously when I heard somebody trying to open my front door. There were only a couple copies of keys for this place, and it was only people with the British Army that had them, and they never tried to get in without knocking on the door first.

    I knew that I couldn’t escape. If they were trying the door, then it meant that the entire building was probably surrounded, and any attempt at an escape would most likely result in my death. But staying here could result in my death as well.

    The lock clicked, and the door opened. I only had time to grab the gun taped to the underside of the table, before a swarm of men in black came bundling into my little flat; guns held in their hands, with their fingers on the triggers. There was nowhere to hide, and it was too late.

   "Hello, Rachel." The front man greeted me, "Or should I call you Regina? It all gets very confusing when you have two names, doesn't it?"

    What confidence I had, went as soon as he said that. He knew my real name. How could he know my real name? I’d been careful. I hadn’t even told Jacques my real name, and he was the closest person I could call a friend out here. And my handler, while she may be the dumbest person I know, didn’t strike me as a person who would be a Nazi sympathizer.

    “If you’re going to kill me, do it. Cause I’m not going to give you anything. I’d rather die, before betraying my country.”

   "But we're not here to kill you. We have something much better planned for you." He nodded his head, giving a command to somebody behind me. I didn't even know that somebody had snuck up behind me until a rag was put over my nose and mouth.

   While I tried not to breathe in, I knew I would have to at some point. I tried fighting so that I could get a breath of clean air but to no avail. Soon, I had to breathe in, and it didn't take long before the darkness was consuming me, and I slumped lifelessly into the arms of my captor.

 


	3. I Can Live Through This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experiments begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. This is the third chapter. Now a quarter of the way through the story. I promise that Steve is going and Peggy are gonna make an appearance soon, and there will be some Bucky, Dum Dum, and Gabe action next chapter - which is my first attempt/publication of a third person chapter. There's also another third person chapter in this story too, and two more in the next instalment of the series.
> 
> The italics in this chapter - that aren't in speech marks - are a poem by Alan Seeger, called Rendezvous. I have it in a book called 'Up The Line To Death,' which is a lot of poems written by soldiers in World War One. Regina is reciting this poem in her head - like some in stressing times may think of their family to escape the pain. If you know Criminal Minds, it's basically what Derek does when he gets kidnapped and tortured in Season 11, and he thinks of his dad.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to you who have favourited, reviewed, commented, bookmarked, and all that jazz.
> 
> Please R&R or comment if you want.
> 
> T.C
> 
> PS. I keep forgetting to add in my beta and friend, who literally edits everything I write. So thanks iKnightWriter. I finally remembered to do it.
> 
> PPS. What would you think if I changed the upload day to Wednesday or something? Or should I keep it Friday's?

 

** Chapter 3 **

**I Can Live Through This**

_     I have a rendezvous with Death _

_     At some disputed barricade, _

    The first thing that I noticed when I woke up, was that my head was killing me. I tried to put my hand up to my head, but I couldn’t move my arms… And they ached. It didn’t take me long to find out that they were outstretched to the side, and tied to surface I was laid on. No amount of pulling could get me loose.

    So I just stayed put, trying to stop my heart from beating so fast. They can explain the theory of being taken, but they can’t prepare you for the reality of how scary it is, or what runs through your head. I kept thinking about Bucky, and how he doesn’t know what I do. About how he will feel when he finds out about what’s happened. Will they find my body? Or will I just be another grave in the Larson plot, with no body in the coffin? It was my one of my worst fears… That my body would never be found.

    Then there was the time. How long had I been here? Was it hours? Days? Weeks? Had I woken up before, and I just couldn’t remember it? Did anybody actually realize that I’d been kidnapped?

_     When Spring comes back with rustling shade _

_     And apple-blossoms fill the air – _

    There were muted sounds coming from somewhere, but I didn’t know if they were coming from close by or not. The green light in the room was the only thing that I was sure of with this place, but at the same time, it was disorientating – not knowing if it was night or day, what day it was, or even what time.

    I don’t know how long I was laying there, but soon, the metal door opened; banging against the wall. It shocked me because I think I'd dropped into a slight slumber at the soothing sounds of far-off noises. 

The man was short, with glasses, thinning hair, and a bow tie, carrying a stack of papers against his chest. Even if I wasn't in some Nazi base, tied to a table, he wouldn't be somebody that I trusted. He just had that air about him. That he was untrustworthy and would do anything for the person he deemed could give him protection, power, or the resources to do what was needed. 

    “I see you are awake, fraulein. You’ve been asleep for a long time.” He said, but I just stared defiantly at the ceiling, “But now that you are conscious, I can start on my little project."

He put down the papers he was carrying on a table close by and started fiddling with something that I couldn't see. I'd started stealing looks when he turned his back to me, trying to figure out what he was doing. 

_     I have a rendezvous with Death _

_ _ _ When Spring brings back blue days and fair _

    “This may sting a little.” The man told me, turning round and holding up a needle, but I knew he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. I mean, it is a sharp, pointy object, and it normally does hurt when it goes in.

    But I didn’t say anything. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react to anything he had planned for me. Even when the needle pierced my skin, and the cool liquid was injected into me, I didn’t react. Although that didn’t last long.

Soon the substance started to burn; slowly at first, but it soon became unbearable. I went from no reaction; to grimacing; to screaming as the pain got worse. All the while, the man was smirking at me.

I'd screamed my throat raw after a couple of minutes, and I'd started sweating, and I could see the black spots dancing in my vision. I didn't want to lose consciousness, but I knew that it wasn't going to be an option. It was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not. I had to do it if I wanted to escape from the never ending pain, and I did want to escape it.

 

**~oOo~**  

My days soon became routine. Get up, eat and drink whatever they would give me, have tests run on me. I was given clean clothes every week and allowed a cold shower every other week. If they were keeping me alive, then they needed me for something. It didn't mean that they had to treat me with any sort of compassion, only make sure that I survived. 

    The small man gave me an injection of the blue liquid that burned every few days, and over time, it stopped hurting as much. I was becoming desensitized to the pain it caused me, but it also made me weak. I thought that this was all they were going to use me for, but I was wrong.

One day, they were leading me through the warehouse, and I noticed that they were building, what looked like, a plane, but at the same time, it didn't. This ship looked to be huge, much bigger than anything I'd ever seen before, and I'd seen some of the planes that Edward had flown. And in my starved and weak state, I blurted out some of the imperfections that I could see. 

_     It may be he shall take my hand _

_     And lead me into his dark land _

    That’s when they put me to work on the plane. Then my days consisted of an earlier start, but more food. I wasn’t given the injection as much – only every couple weeks now – because it interfered with the job they wanted me to do.

    And then they decided on something else… If they had more prisoners, then they could use them as their slaves. It meant that they got more people to experiment on, and it meant that they didn’t have to do any work. Less then a week later, they had more people. At least I thought it was about a week. Time was moving very differently since being taken.

    I was slumped in my cell – a small, circular one, with vertical bars, that made it a little like a birdcage – when they brought them in. My head was killing me, and my muscles ached, and I was tired.

"Rachel!" An excited voice said before they started speaking in rapid French, " _I was beginning to think the worst._ ”

    Slowly, I turned my head towards the voice. When I saw who it was, a smile spread across my face, and I used the bars to pull myself up. It cost a lot of energy, but it was worth it.

_     And close my eyes and quench my breath – _

_     It may be I shall pass him still, _

    “Jacques?” It couldn’t really be him, could it? " _Is it really you, or is this just yet another hallucination?_ ” It was hard to believe that there was really a friendly face in this place, “ _Wait, what month is it? How long have I been gone?_ ”

    “ _It is the end of July now. You have been missing for just over four months_.” 

    _Four months_? I’ve been here, for _four_ months? What must Bucky be thinking? And all my other friends must be thinking the worst as well. Howard would’ve locked himself away, working on his projects with Abraham. And Peggy and Chester… I was like a sister to Peggy, and a daughter to Chester – who’s son had been saved by my brother's sacrifice. 

    The strength in my legs left me, and had I not been hanging onto the bars, it would have been a very hard landing on the concrete floor. Instead, it was more of a slow sink to the hard ground.

_     I have a rendezvous with Death _

_     On some scarred slope of battered hill, _

    More guards came in with more people. It looked like some more members of the French Resistance had been captured at the same time as Jacques. On one hand, it meant less work for me, but it also meant a lot more test subjects for the doctor – if you could even call him that – and more slaves for this Nazi branch, that I'd learned was called HYDRA. 

I could hear one of the others yelling ‘bring him back' in French. They'd started taking people already, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. And I hated feeling helpless when I knew that, if I was healthy, I could do something about the barbaric things that were going to happen.

_     When spring comes round again this year _

_     And the first meadow-flowers appear. _

It seemed as though I'd lost consciousness at some point because when I woke up, I was tied to the doctor's table again. I'd taken to calling him a butcher because no doctor I knew of, would ever do anything like this. They wouldn't experiment on people when they had no idea what would happen to them. 

    There were screams coming from other rooms, but they soon died off, whether they were dead or not, I didn’t know. I hoped that they were still alive, but something in the pit of my stomach told me that that wasn’t the case.

    “It is that time again, fraulein.” The needle went in my arm, and the liquid was injected again. I’d noticed small changes over the months, but it wasn’t anything of significance - a little height growth, my endurance had increased… Injuries were healing faster than usual.

    Whatever they were doing to me, whatever they were looking for... I think that the changes happening to me, were what they wanted. And they were now testing the serum on other people to see if they had the same reaction as me.

** ~oOo~ **

_     God knows ‘twere better to be deep _

_     Pillowed in silk and scented down, _

Another friendly face was brought in with some other prisoners in the middle of August. Monty had been captured with his men after they were dropped at the wrong coordinates, and were ambushed as soon as they landed. They were given no chance to get away. 

    My job had gotten easier though. More people meant more hands, and that meant that my workload went down. I was actually able to get a full nights sleep, even it wasn’t the most comfortable I’d ever had - the cold, hard floor not providing any form of protection to my aching body. I had to admit though, that I was better rested then I had been in months.

I was just glad that they hadn't taken Monty or Jacques to be experimented on. I think it had something to do with Jacques knowledge with explosives and Monty's with parachutes. They needed those skills for something they were putting on the ship when it was finished. 

_     Where love throbs out in blissful sleep, _

_     Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath, _

    But just because they weren’t taking my friends, didn’t mean that they weren’t still taking me. I wished they would stop, but if they were doing it to me, they were leaving somebody else alone. I’d rather it be me, then somebody who didn’t know what was going to happen to them.

    The random takings still happened though. I could hear them screaming from all around me, and none of them ever came back. So far, I had been the only person who hadn’t died, and I didn’t know why that was.

And their screams haunted me. I could hear them screaming every time I closed my eyes, imagine what they pain they were going through, and asking myself what was so different about me, that I could survive and they couldn't. What was so special about me? Was it because I was a female, and they weren't? Or was it just pure luck, and a refusal to die here? 

_     Where hushed awakenings are dear… _

_     But I have a rendezvous with Death _

Monty and Jacques talked to me through the bars of our cells, but I didn't always talk back. I was too caught up with the questions running through my head, and feeling guilty for the families of those who died. They were going to be getting telegrams, telling them that their loved ones had died, but they weren't going to be getting a body back. I'd overheard them talking about burning the bodies, and that just made me feel even worse. 

    No tears would come for them though. As much as I wanted to, it was a weakness I couldn’t show now, and a reaction I refused to give them. I still refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break, even after all these months. And I was scared for when I finally got out of here. I was scared that it would just be a flood of emotions that came pouring out, and I didn’t know if I could handle that.

    Some people could call it bravery, not showing them that they were winning, but I didn’t feel brave. I didn’t want people to call me brave either. What was so special or brave about a scared orphan from England? Nothing. And yet I still refused to die, even after all this time.

_     At midnight in some flaming town, _

_     When spring trips north again this year, _

    So things continued the way they had for months, but I wasn’t being taken for the injections anymore. That was what confused me the most. Why, after all this time, would they stop doing something they’d been doing for months?

    Had they found something out on me? Is that why they were stopping? Had they found the one thing that would make me break? Had they found Bucky? While it was a new fear, Bucky being taken, having _this_ happen to him… It had become something that I wanted to protect him from. I didn’t want him to experience anything that I’d had to go through.

Or had they just found what they were looking for in my blood? They had to be looking for something if they kept experimenting on all these soldiers, and it had to be something specific. It couldn’t just be a slight change. It had to be a big change to get them to stop using me as a human pincushion.

It was in the third week of September though, that my worst fear came true. And I would do anything to trade the soldiers that were brought in next… Because of their new set of slaves, were a lot of men from the one-oh-seventh. 

    Bucky’s unit.

_     And I to my pledged word am true, _

_     I shall not fail that rendezvous. _

 


	4. Left For Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finds out about Regina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. I have decided to upload today, on a non-Friday, cause I can, and I want to. I just got really excited cause of the 30 second Avengers Infinity War spot, and finding out about the Black Panther end credit scenes. It's been a good couple of years since I've been to the cinema cause of my anxiety - I think the last movie I saw at the cinema was Mockingjay - Part 2 in 2015, and that was a midnight showing - but I am determined to see The Death Cure, Black Panther, Infinity War, and Deadpool 2. If I can see just one of those movies at the cinema, I'll be happy.
> 
> Anyway, enough with my little rant about that. This is my first time publishing a 3rd Person chapter, so I hope it's okay. Don't judge me too harshly, please. 3rd Person always confuses me when I write, and I normally end up reverting back to 1st Person. And this chapter contains a deleted scene that I had no idea existed, until my mama bought me the Blu-ray of TFA.
> 
> Now on with the chapter. Please R&R or comment if you want. Thanks to all those who have commented, reviewed, favourited, subscribed, and all that jazz.
> 
> T.C
> 
> PS. This is basically just Bucky's POV - in 3rd Person - of finding out about Regina, to when his unit is captured, just in case any of you get a bit confused reading this.
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 4 **

** Left For Dead **

    It seemed like it was just a normal day at the one-oh-seventh. Wake up, shower, breakfast, and then wait for orders from the commanding officer, who happened to be Colonel Chester Phillips. But this was anything but an ordinary day. It was so far from it, that America was probably closer than ordinary. 

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was joking around with Dum Dum Dugan when he noticed the two officers walking towards the Colonel's tent. What stuck out most about the men, was that they weren't wearing the United States military uniforms, but British Army ones. From what he could remember, there weren't any Brits in the camp, only Americans. 

The soldiers knocked on the side of the tent, before entering at the command of Colonel Phillips. They didn't stay for very long and were leaving his tent after only about ten minutes. It couldn't be good new though, not if they were leaving after such a short time. 

    “What do you think that was about?” He asked Dum Dum, sitting on one of the wooden crates and eating an apple, “It’s the first British soldiers I’ve seen since being here.”

    “Dunno.” Dum Dum leaned against the same box Bucky was leaning on, “But it could be anything.”

Colonel Phillips didn't come out of his tented office for quite a while after the British soldiers visited him. Somebody else took over his morning briefing, telling them what their jobs for the day were. That meant that, whatever he was told… It was bad. Bad enough to make him delegate his jobs to somebody else, and that hadn't ever happened in all the months that they'd been stationed here. 

    When he finally did emerge from his tent, his eyes were rimmed red, like he’d been crying, and he wasn’t carrying himself how he usually did. Everybody was so used to him being this unflappable and unfazed person, it was almost weird, seeing him a little unkempt and trying not to show any emotion.

    “Barnes, my office.” He turned round, and walked back into the tent that served as his makeshift office. Everybody in the camp knew it was bad if you got called to Phillips office, and so far, it had never happened to Bucky.

    “What you do, man?” Gabe walked up to them, having heard Phillips call Bucky to his office. Gabe was just as curious as the others who’d heard their Colonel call the Sergeant in for possible punishment.

    “How should I know?” He replied, sliding off the box he’d been perched on since the morning, and starting to walk towards where Phillips had disappeared, “But there’s only one way to find out. Wish me luck.”

    Out of respect for his superior, he knocked on the side of the tent before entering. Even though he’d been summoned, he still knew how he had to act. The army was all about routine and discipline. And he also didn’t have a high enough Rank that he could just walk in.

The desk was neatly organized. Papers were in a neat stack, the typewriter was in the middle of the table, and letters that had yet to be opened were placed on the hardwood with a letter opener next to them.

    “Take a seat, Barnes.” Bucky did as he was told; sitting in the chair in front of the Colonel, who was holding a small piece of paper, “This was delivered to me today. I’m sorry."

Bucky took the piece of paper that was being handed to him, dreading what it was going to say; especially with the way, his Colonel was looking at him, with pity in his eyes. 

_     Post Office Telegram _

_     Sergeant J B Barnes = 107th, Azzano, Italy. _

_     Deeply regret to inform you that your fiancée, Regina E Larson, Lieutenant, has been Missing In Action since March 11th, and presumed Killed on War Service. Letter follows shortly = Colonel Arnold. _

    The only things that Bucky seemed to pick up on, were the name, the date, and ‘presumed Killed.’ There had to be some sort of mistake. Another Regina Larson, and Bucky had gotten this by mistake.

    “She’s a nurse. A _nurse!_ ” He almost yelled, his hands shaking as he continued to hold the telegram close to his chest, “How can she be Missing in Action? She was in Allied France.”

    “No, she wasn’t.” Colonel Phillips told him, “She was in Nazi Germany, collecting information to help the Allies bring down Hitler. She was recruited as a Spy by MI6, for an assignment called Section D. She was the courier of the group, and from what we can tell, she got ambushed in the flat she was staying in.”

That's when he decided to bring up the date. "And you only got the news now? It's April 26th! She's been missing for over a month." 

“We’re in a war zone, Barnes. It’s not like everything arrives at the drop of a hat. Things like this take time, and nothing can speed up the process." The Colonel was trying not to lose his temper, but it was hard, seeming as Regina was somebody he cared about as well, "Now, take some time. Cry, wallow, shout, do whatever will make you feel better, and then get yourself together. When I see you next, I want you to have put it aside. As Churchill said ‘never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.’”

** ~oOo~ **

    Bucky walked out of the tent, almost in a state of shock. He was trying to take it all in. His girl was a spy. She'd lied to him for months, all while putting her life in danger to help keep her country safe.

    “You okay, Buck?” But he ignored the voice, choosing to continue walking towards the Mess Hall. He knew that nobody should be in there at this time, so he could take some time to himself. So he could cry in private, and not run the risk of the others seeing him like this.

    And that’s how Dum Dum found him – sitting on one of the benches, with the telegram open in front of him. He didn’t have to ask what was bothering him, he just knew by the broken look on his friends face; with his eyes rimmed red.

"When did you propose to her? You haven't seen her since she waved us off." Dum Dum looked at the telegram, almost like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, "No offense, Barnes, but you don't seem like the kind of guy to ask via a letter." 

"I haven't. We agreed to put her down as my fiancée so that if anything happened to me, she would be informed. Steve's down as my brother. I didn't want them being left in the dark, or having to find out through somebody else." 

    Dum Dum took the seat next to Bucky; putting a comforting arm around his crying friend's shoulder. Dugan couldn’t begin to imagine what the Sergeant was going through, but he could at least show sympathy.

But true to his word, the next time Bucky saw Colonel Phillips, he was standing in line for lunch, eyes still rimmed red, but he was putting on a brave face. He had to if he was going to hunt down the Nazi scum who'd taken his girl. And he would do whatever he could to find her, even if it meant breaking some of the rules. 

** ~oOo~ **

The months seemed to pass really slowly for James Barnes nowadays. Whenever he got a post, he always hoped for a letter from Regina, saying that she'd escaped and was doing well, or another telegram with new information on her whereabouts. But nothing ever came. Only letters from his family and Steve.

    He’d told them that Lizzie was missing, but he hadn’t told them what her actual job was. He only told them that the hospital she’d been working in had been attacked, and she’d been taken by the Nazi’s in the chaos that followed. They always asked if he’d heard anything new about if they were any closer to finding her, but the answers always remained the same.

Sergeant Barnes agenda never changed though. He got as much information as he could off of Colonel Phillips – everything from the missing French Resistance fighters from Germany, to the British Parachute Brigade, to the other branch of Nazi soldier, who called themselves HYDRA. This line of investigation seemed to yield the best answers to the questions he was asking.

It must have been a few weeks after the Parachutists went missing though, that Bucky, Dum Dum, and Gabe were picked to join a group of guys on a trip to the Front Lines, about five miles from where the camp was. Everything went pear-shaped almost as soon as they stepped across the border.

    Somebody fired a flare into the air, and it exploded in a white light; illuminating the cloudy night sky. Down on the ground, fires were raging, and soldiers were running for cover.

    “Move, move, move, move!”

    Mortar shells were being dropped, throwing men into the path of other soldiers, but also creating bunkers for people to take cover in. One of those people, was Bucky Barnes, and his friends Dum Dum Dugan, and Gabe Jones, all of whom jumped into the first crater they found; their faces caked in sweat and earth.

"There's got to be at least five more other companies out there," Dugan told the other Sergeant, making sure his bowler hat didn't fall off. 

    “Radio B Company. Tell them we need cover.”

    “That might be tough.” Gabe commented, falling into the crater and holding up their radio; which had a smoking hole in the side of it, “Bucky, behind you!”

    The three friends turned around, and started firing on the enemy; hitting as many as they could from their position, as more explosions happened around them. A bullet fired by somebody knocked Dum Dum’s hat off, but it didn’t cause him any injury.

    “Here they come!” Bucky yelled over the noises going off around them, and changing his position yet again.

    “I hate these guys.” Dugan picked up his hat, and placed it on his head, before joining his friends - who were slowly picking off the enemy one by one, as they came down the hill towards them.

    But then something strange happened. A blue energy started being fired from another direction to the American soldiers, vaporizing the enemy. It was almost like they’d never been there in the first place.

    “Get down!”

And then there was nothing. The enemy fire, and the blue energy that had helped them stopped. All seemed quiet, and some of the American soldier started celebrating the fact that they had won. 

    “What the hell was that?”

    Bucky, Dum Dum, and Gabe all climbed out of the crater, guns at the ready as another one of the mystery blue lights hit another target – which was quickly followed by another two, as the enemy retreated.

    “That looks… New.”

    That’s when a huge tank, with lights on the front, came driving over the hill; stopping before it would start rolling towards the soldiers. Bucky looked at it, almost like he couldn't believe what he was seeing before it started training its cannon on the three of them. 

    "Down!” He shouted, diving for cover, as the cannon charged up, and fired at them.

When the earth had stopped falling, they noticed that they were not alone. People had guns trained on them, and if they were anything like the ones that they had seen used before, then they could do a lot of damage. And if they were firing at their allies, then they were even more brutal, and definitely wouldn’t care who else they shot.

"Schmidt and Zola are going to be happy with today's prisoners." One of the men said, "He had been wanting some Americans to test his serum on." 


	5. Broken and Defeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Regina are reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. Again, an earlier upload again, but I have decided to change the upload schedule cause I'm possibly going to be moving in the next month, and I don't know what the internet is gonna be like. I'd much rather have all this story uploaded before I move. So, one week it'll be Monday and Friday, and the next week it'll be Wednesday, then it'll be repeated.
> 
> I'd really like to know your suggestions for this series. Do you think it should be a Civil War fix-it? I do have an idea for it, if not. Should Bucky and Regina have started planning for the future - kids, marriage and stuff? Let me know what you think.
> 
> Thanks to all those who have favourited, subscribed, commented and all that jazz - especially to the Guest who I couldn't message. You really made me smile when I saw it. Please R&R and comment if you want.
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter.
> 
> T.C
> 
> WARNING! This chapter has some torture in it.
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 5  **

**Broken and Defeated**

 

 

    New prisoners. That was a statement that sent shivers down my spine. But it made my blood run cold when I heard that it was the one-oh-seventh. I couldn’t be so unlucky that I could be taken and tortured, only to have my guy be taken only a few months after I am.

    Apparently, I am though, seeing as James ‘Bucky' Barnes, Timothy 'Dum Dum' Dugan, and Gabe Jones - along with about another hundred men - were led into the room, and placed in the cell next to mine. They had no idea what they were in for, and if HYDRA finds out about my relationship with one of the prisoners… Seeing him harmed would be the thing that caused all my months of silence, to be in vain.

    To be honest, I don’t think Bucky even recognized me at first, but why would he? I know I wasn’t facing him, but I’d lost weight, I was pale, my hair hadn’t been brushed, and the bags round my eyes made them look sunken… I looked haunted, or like I was a ghost. And I was. I felt like a ghost of my former self.

    I brought my legs up and wrapped my arms around them; my head resting on my knees. I wanted to feel something, but I couldn't. Even with my friends in danger, I had built up such a wall around my emotions, that it was going to take something big for everything to come crashing down.

    “Rachel? _Are you okay?_ ”

    “ _Not really_.” I answered, my voice cracking slightly from its little use and all the screaming I’d done from today’s experimentation, which I’d been calling torture for some time now, “ _But I will be. Don’t worry, Jacques._ ”

    There was a gasp from behind, and then Bucky's weak voice. And I wanted to curse myself for being so stupid. Bucky had heard me speak French before, so of course, he would recognize my voice. He might not have if I'd spoken in German, but I don't think anybody but the ‘guards' would understand what I was saying, and I didn't want them to know what I was talking about. I really think they haven't let me die because I was the only test subject who didn't die, and I could translate what they were saying.

    “Lizzie?” I knew it was Bucky, weak voice or not, and I didn’t have to turn around to know that he was looking through the bars at me, “Is that you? Is this where you’ve been all these months?”

    Even though my body ached, and I felt so cold that I thought I was freezing, I had to see him with my own two eyes. See if it wasn’t just my brain playing tricks on me again, when in actual fact I was in Doctor Zola’s lab, strapped to the table and hallucinating like had happened to me multiple times.

    “Bucky?” The pain of turning round caused, had me gritting my teeth and breathing heavily, but just to see his face, it was worth it, “It’s really you?” I reached through the bars to take his outstretched hand; a single tear rolling down my cheek... He felt real, “I’m sorry I haven’t been writing. I should’ve tried to get in contact.”

    "It's alright, Doll." He cut me off my rambling, and gently squeezed my hand, like I might break at any moment, "What matters, is that you're alive, and we're together. You know, it's almost been a year since we met? You were wearing this red dress, and having a drink in memory of your brother. We can celebrate when we get out of here. Just you and me. We can go someplace warm."

    “I like the sound of that.” I nodded tiredly, closing my eyes, “Maybe we could go to Brooklyn… Meet Stevie…”

    Bucky squeezed my hand a little tighter, and my eyes opened slightly. “Let me see those beautiful green eyes, Doll… Now you’re not allowed to give up on me, you hear? We’ll get out of here somehow. You’ll meet Stevie. He’s going to be excited to meet you. I told him about you in my letters.”

    “I’m not giving up. I’m just tired.” I told him, not quite picking up what Jacques said, but knew it was translated by somebody else, “I can introduce you to Peggy, and Howard, and Uncle Chester... They’ll be happy.”

    “Okay. Go to sleep, Lizzie.” And I did what he said; my carefully constructed walls were already beginning to show cracks.

 

**~oOo~**

 

    Part of me wondered why I hadn’t been taken to another torture session. The other part was glad that it hadn’t happened. My strength was slowly coming back, I was sleeping slightly better, and most of the aches had gone. Maybe they’d found what they were looking for, and were now just seeing how long it was going to last.

    Oh, how wrong I was. They were studying me, just not the way I thought they were going to. And I was too stupid to see what they were doing. My brain wasn’t working quick enough, to pick up on how they were watching me. How I interacted with the different prisoners, particularly Bucky, and how they interacted with me.

    And while I may be able to hide my feelings for Bucky, he couldn't. He didn't know how hadn't been trained on how to do it.  And I couldn't warn him not to acknowledge me like he cared because he'd already started doing it. I was hoping to just make it seem like he had a crush.

    But that didn’t work. It did for a while, but then they came for more test subjects… Well, one new test subject – Bucky. They’d seen how he acted with me, and now they were testing a theory. They came into the cells, looked around as if they were trying to find someone specific – even when they already knew where they were – and then dragged Bucky out of the cell.

    I couldn’t stop the involuntary noise that escaped my lips. I know what they were doing, and I’d just handed them what they were looking for – a reaction from me. They’d been wanting one for months, and they’d finally figured out how to get one, and now they were going to use it to their advantage.

    “Leave him alone. Take me instead.” In for a penny, in for a pound. They know about it, so there’s no use in hiding it now… And I have to keep him safe. I know what they’re going to do, and if what happened to the others happens to him, then he’s going to die in agony.

    “Zola’s orders. The Doctor only wants him.” One of them told me, almost smirking at my distress, as they dragged him out.

    _Calm down, and think this through._ The voice in my head told me. It was the voice I used to distract myself with when Zola was treating me as a human pincushion. Y _ou need a plan, and you can’t be stupid about this. Things could get a lot worse if you jump in feet first, and that in itself could result in Bucky’s death._

    If I could get one of the guards to come in here, maybe I could trick them… Or maybe attack them. But how could I harm them – kill them even – with only the things in this cell? A shoelace would be obvious, easy to strangle somebody through the bars, but then one boot would be loose, and I couldn't ask one of the other soldiers because then they could be punished.

    So what else could I use? I could rip my shirt, sure it would give me less protection against the cold, but I'd still had my white undershirt, and it could work the same as a shoelace, and would possibly be a little longer. I would have a better grip.

    “What are you doing?” Dum Dum asked when he saw me tearing the bottom of my unbuttoned shirt, coming over to the bars of his cell.

    “Something very clever, and extraordinarily dangerous.” I twisted the fabric and tired the two ends together, before kicking the lock of my cell, and yelling in German, “ _Come on. Face me like a man. Or are you lot all cowards?_ "

    “Are you mad?”

    “Just a bit."

    My plan worked though. One guard rounded the corner – holding his weapon – and made his way over to the cell; making sure not to stand too close, but it was still close enough for what I was planning to do.

    “ _I am no coward_.”

    “ _Could’ve fooled me. Won’t even take a girl, even when she offers herself up. Can you not handle me anymore?_ ”

    “ _The Doctor is not interested in you, for the moment._ ”

    He turned his back to me, and that's when I acted; throwing the looped fabric around his neck, and pulling. The guard was yanked backward towards the vertical bars of my cell, grasping at the makeshift ligature that was slowly cutting off his air supply.

    Something hit the back of my neck. It didn't knock me out, but it did make everything go a little fuzzy. My grip on the ligature loosened, and the HYDRA agent fell to the floor; coughing as the air rushed back into his lungs.

    “You’re getting your wish.” I fell to the cold floor, the world spinning around me so fast, it made me sick, "The Doctor will want to know about this, and you know how he loves his experiments."

 

**~oOo~**

 

    It turns out that they shot me with a tranquilizer, and the amount of drugs in the dart, was enough to knock out a full grown man, but I was still able to fight the effects, and remain awake – even if I was a little dazed and confused. Whatever they’d been doing to me, it was messing with my body.

    Zola was excited about this piece of information. He wanted to test how many doses it took to knock me out, and then time how long it took me to wake up again. The Doctor got a lot of enjoyment out of doing this; keeping me drugged up enough to see what he was doing to Bucky, but not be able to do anything to help him. That was something else the Doctor took pleasure in.

    Seeing Bucky getting tortured was not something I wanted to see, but Zola made sure that I had no choice, but to watch. And if I closed my eyes, I could still hear everything that was going on.

    Bucky tried to reassure me that he was okay, but after hours of seeing and hearing him being tortured, it was hard to believe what he was saying. I didn't try to hide my tears because I couldn't stop them, even if I tried – and I did, many times – as the carefully constructed walls I’d built over the months of captivity, had finally started to collapse.

    “I’m okay, Doll.” He sounded tired. Even after only a few days at the hands of Zola, he didn’t sound like the Bucky I knew, “We’re going to be okay. You’ll see. Somebody will come for us.”

    "You're gonna die, Buck." I cried, the tears streaming down my cheeks, "I'm the only one to survive the injections that he gives, and he's going to make me watch. I can't bear to see that happen to you."

    “He hasn’t given it to me yet.”

    “But he will. It’s only a matter of time.”

    We continued to talk about everything and nothing. It didn’t distract us from what was going on, but it helped pass the time. He talked about how he went to Art school with Steve for a year, and how he boxed before joining the army – a three-year YMCA welterweight champion.

    He also told me about Steve’s mum, and how she died of tuberculosis back in thirty-six, when she caught it from one of her patients. Said how he and Steve had their own little phrase, and it was something Bucky told him after the funeral - ‘cause I’m with you till the end of the line.

    “I like that. I may join you with that.”

    “You have a saying?”

    “A couple. One’s pretty morbid, but I like the other.” I said, taking a calming breath, “'I will not say ‘do not weep,’ for not all tears are an evil.’ I think one of my brothers said it once, and it stuck with me.”

    But our time alone did not last. Before long, Doctor Zola was back, and he looked like he was ready to resume what he had started with Bucky. This was the time. He was going to inject him with the serum that had killed every other person it had been tested on.

    I started to weakly pull on the ties holding me down, but that was all I could do. The drug was still in my system – even if it was working its way out – but it still left me helpless to whatever he was doing. I just hoped that I would be the one to kill him after all this was over.

    “Hey, Lizzie?” His breath was fast and heavy; scared of what was going to happen to him, “I wanna know the morbid one. I want to know what it is.”

    "'Death is just another path. One that we all must take.’ I came up with it when my family started dying off, one by one."

    That's when Zola jabbed the needle into Bucky's arm and pressed the plunger down. For a few seconds, there was nothing - no screaming, pleading or anything. But then it began. And all I could do was watch and listen, while Zola smirked at us, and our discomfort.

 


	6. Little Conqueror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finally makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. I'd like to say a Happy (Belated) Valentines to you all. I spent it eating what junk food I had stored away, writing some more stories, and annoying my mother by asking her opinion on some of my ideas. And thinking really hard about changing the ending of this story - thanks to the Guest that almost had me doing it - but I think you'll be surprised about the ending. Fingers crossed on that. But the whole of this story is written, and the next one - The Ghost of You - has all been planned out, and I started writing chapter 4 of that yesterday.
> 
> Now, I have a couple of ideas for Civil War, and while I don't want to give everything away, I need to know which one you'd want to read. The fix-it, will heavily involved Clint and his family, the UN bombing wouldn't happen, but a fight would break out between the Avengers. Or I could just do a slight variation on the movie. It's up to you guys.
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter. I'm really proud of this one, and it's the only other 3rd person chapter.
> 
> Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, commented, subscribed, favourited, and all that jazz. It really means a lot to me.
> 
> Please R&R or comment if you want.
> 
> T.C
> 
> ~oOo~

**Chapter 6**

**Little Conqueror**

 

 

   Steve had been traveling for months. A different city every other day, but the same show performed over and over again. When he'd signed up to be part of the experimental program, Project Rebirth, he didn't think that he'd be doing this. He thought he'd be on the front lines.

    So for the past nine months, Steve had been doing the same show, but now he was getting to go and entertain the troops. And while he didn’t want to be dressed in the stupid uniform given to him by Senator Brandt, or have scientists studying him, there was no way around it. It was his only way to have any part in the Military.

    But it was while he was entertaining the active servicemen in Italy, that Steve got his first experience of what it was like to fight. He was about five miles from the front lines, failing to ‘raise the spirits’ of the men, who just wanted the girls to come back. They got what they wanted, even if the girls just stood there and waved at them.

    After leaving the stage, Steve sat backstage in the rain; drawing a monkey holding a shield and an umbrella, on a unicycle. Some other drawings of clowns dancing were underneath the wire the unicycle was resting on. His time at art school before the war had really paid off.

    “Hello, Steve.” He turned away from his drawing, to see Agent Peggy Carter standing behind him, observing his almost complete artwork.

    “Hi.” Peggy said the same thing in return, folding her coat over her arm, and sitting down on a bench next to Steve, “What are you doing here?”

    “Officially, I’m not here at all.” She told him, “That was quite the performance.”

    Out of embarrassment, Steve looked away. “Yeah, er… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more, er… Twelve.”

    “And I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.”

    “Bonds take a ten percent bump in every State I visit.” Steve was still looking away, disappointed that he was doing this - being a fool - while she’d been away on some secret mission, that was on a ‘need to know’ basis.

    “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

    Steve didn’t answer for a few seconds, knowing that he did slightly sound like the Senator he had started to hate. “At least he has me doing this. Phillips would’ve had me stuck in a lab.”

   "And those are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey." She pointed down to the Captain America dressed monkey he'd been drawing before she arrived, "You were meant for more than this, you know." And neither of them spoke as they listened to the rain hitting the muddy floor until Peggy decided to ask about the slightly dejected look on Steve's face, "What?"

   "You know, for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas, and being on the front lines… Serving my country." Steve took a breath, "Finally got everything I wanted… And I'm wearing tights."

    A horn blasted in the background, and they both turned to see a medical vehicle stopping by the make-shift hospital, and a bunch of soldiers with red crosses on their helmets come running over. Only one man was carried out on a stretcher, and he was quickly taken to the medical tent.

   "Looks like they've been through hell," Steve commented, not taking his eyes off the wounded soldier still in his sights.

   Peggy turned away from the wounded soldier. "These men more than most." And Steve sent her a slightly confused look, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him, and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured."

    The unit number caught Steve’s attention. The one-oh-seventh was where his father had been stationed in 'The Great War’ and where his best friend, Bucky Barnes, was currently stationed, and surely his only friend would have been able to recognize his voice, even if he was wearing the stupid costume.

    “The one-oh-seventh?” He asked, just to make sure that he hadn’t misheard her, and hoping that that was the case, but the look on her face told him that he hadn’t.

    “What?”

    And Steve took off running into the rain, making sure that Peggy was following him. He had to get the tent of the commanding officer, and he had a feeling that he knew who it was, and he was proved right as soon as he walked in.

    “Colonel Phillips.” He walked right up to his desk; stopping just in front of it.

    “Well, if it isn’t the ‘Star Spangled Man with the Plan’. What is your plan today?” Phillips spoke fast, a pen in his grip as he stopped signing the condolence letters to the families of the men, who had been in the group that had been ambushed by Schmidt and his men.

    “I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

    “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

    “I just need one name - Sergeant James Barnes from the hundred and seventh.”

    Colonel Phillips pointed towards Peggy. “You and I are gonna have a conversation later, that you won’t enjoy.” But Steve wasn’t in any kind of mood to even care that he wasn’t talking to a commanding officer in the correct manner.

    “Please tell me he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

   "I can spell." The Colonel cut Steve off mid-sentence, but the hurt look on the young man's face, told him that the Sergeant was very important to the Captain, so Phillips stood up, and turned his back on the two standing in front of the desk, "I've signed more of these condolence letters today then I would care to count. But the name does seem familiar. I'm sorry."

   Phillips didn't want to tell the Sergeant's best friend that he'd comforted the young soldier while he cried for his missing sweet heart - who also happened to be somebody that the Colonel cared for greatly, and had even gone to the small funeral held for her brother. Her brother's death was the reason he had started throwing dummy grenades at the trainees - to see if they had the guts to do what William had done.

    But while Steve did look sad about his friend's possible death, he knew that he couldn't leave the other men in the unit where they were. He knew he had to do something. Something that wasn’t being Phillips lab rat, or Brandt’s professional dancing monkey. Peggy was right, there had to be another option, and he was going to choose it for himself.

    “What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Steve asked, not taking his eyes off of the wall beside the Colonel’s desk.

    “Yeah, it’s called 'winning the War’.”

    “But if you know where they are, why not at least…”

   "They're thirty miles behind the lines, through some of the most heavily fortified territories in Europe. We'd lose more men then we'd save." Phillips told him matter-of-factly, and taking notice of what Steve was looking at, "But I don't expect you to understand that because you're a chorus girl."

   Steve took a calming breath before he spoke again. "I think I understand just fine."

    “Well then understand it somewhere else.” The Colonel started walking away, “If I read the poster correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes.”

    However, Steve was only half listening to him. His attention had gone back to staring at the map on the wall, and seeing one pin with the letter ‘H’ attached to it. And Steve had already started formulating a plan in his head about how he was going to get the prisoners.

    “Yes, Sir. I do.” And he started to walk away as well, leaving Agent Carter to figure out what he was planning on doing.

    Not looking up from what he was doing, Colonel Phillips started talking to Peggy, as she finally realized what was going on. “If you have something to say, now would be a perfect time to keep it to yourself.”

 

**~oOo~**

 

   After a small argument with Peggy about how Bucky was most likely dead, and his plan of action, Steve found himself sitting in the back of an airplane, piloted by none other, than Howard Stark - engineer and weapons designer, who also helped Steve turn into the Super Soldier he is now.

   "The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg, tucked away between these two mountain ranges." Peggy was showing Steve a map, while telling him everything she knew, "It's a factory of some kind."

   "Should be able to drop you right on the doorstep," Howard shouted from the pilot's seat.

    “Just get me as close as you can.” Steve shouted back, before lowering his voice, “You know, you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when we land.” He continued to strap himself into his parachute while speaking.

    “And you won’t?”

    “Where I’m going, if anybody yells at me, I can just shoot ‘em.”

    “And they will undoubtedly shoot back."

    Steve banged his metal shield. “Well, let’s hope it’s good for something.” And while he doubted it would do much, it would at least give him a little protection. Maybe it would even slow down the path of any bullet fired at him.

   "Agent Carter, if we're not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late night fondue," Howard says in a flirty manner, not seeing the awkward look that the Agent gives Steve, who's getting ready to parachute out of the plane.

    There are a few seconds where nobody says anything, either too embarrassed or too confused to speak. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen.” Peggy decided to break the awkward silence, “He’s mad enough to brave this airspace, we’re lucky to have him.”

    “So are you two…? Do you…? Fondue?” Steve asked, still very confused by what was going on, and not realizing that fondue is just a fancy way of saying hot cheese and bread.

   Peggy just ignored his rambling, opting to give him something he could use to tell them where he was when he was ready to be picked up. She told him that it was a transponder and that it would broadcast his location when it was activated.

    “Are you sure this works?”

    “It’s been tested more than you, pal."

    Suddenly, the plane starts being bombarded with artillery fire; rocking the plane from side to side as Howard tried to avoid being hit by any of the bullets being fired. Steve grabbed his shield and got up, knowing that Howard and Peggy needed to get to safety as soon as possible, and he knew that that meant jumping a lot earlier than expected.

    “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!”

    But Steve just ignored her, going to the open door of the plane, and sitting down with his legs dangling outside. “As soon as I’m free, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!”

    “You can’t give me orders!”

    “The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!”

    Steve gives her a smile, reaching up to pull the goggles over his eyes, and jumping out of the plane; falling through the cold night air of November, in the middle of nowhere, above Europe.

 

**~oOo~**

 

    After Steve landed, he quietly made his way through the foggy woods. He almost blended in with the background, but if anybody had been paying attention, they probably would’ve spotted him stealthily running towards his way into the HYDRA factory.

    He stopped in the shadows beside a tree trunk, observing the lights from the gated facility as they moved; trying to detect any movement from anybody who shouldn’t be there, while guards patrolled the perimeter.

   And just as he was about to make his move to enter the factory, he heard a noise behind him, so he ducked behind some leaves to conceal himself better. A motorbike drove by first, followed by three trucks. Steve decided that his best option for infiltrating the base was to ride into the factory, in the back of one of the trucks.

    So, once the last truck had passed by him, Steve made a dash for the canvas-topped storage space at the rear, and jumped in… Only to find two HYDRA operatives sitting there; masks over their faces, and the red skull and tentacles logo embroidered on the left shoulder of their black uniforms.

   "Fellas." Steve greeted the confused men in the back before they rushed towards him. It didn't take Steve very long to knock them out, and throw them from the back of the truck, as it continued to drive towards the entrance of the factory.

   It also didn't take Steve very long to incapacitate the next HYDRA officer - who came face-to-face with the shield once the truck had stopped - and Steve nimbly leapt out of the back, and away from any other HYDRA personnel that was in the area.

    Steve kept running into more of the HYDRA symbols he’d seen on the uniforms of those he’d knocked out, but the ones on the vehicles he’d hidden behind, were white instead of red.

    But by some miracle, Steve wasn’t seen by any of the officers who were walking around the compound, and he successfully made his way inside the factory. He also wasn’t caught by anybody inside either, and even had time to collect a small sample of technology that might be useful to Howard once he made it back to camp.

   To some, it may seem like this was too easy, but nobody at HYDRA was actually expecting a rescue mission to be attempted by only one man, especially somebody like Captain America - who was on most of the propaganda material in the United States.

    The Captain soon found where the prisoners were being held, and made quick work of one of the guards on the gantry above them; which caused all the prisoners in the cell to look up, and stand up.

    “Who are you suppose to be?” Gabe Jones asked, looking at the shield and the clothing that the mystery rescuer was wearing.

    “I’m… Captain America.” Steve said, looking around at the other cells, all of which were occupied, except one.

    “I beg your pardon?”

    While they were talking, Steve took the keys off of the guard's body and began opening all the cells he could; letting out all the prisoners.

   "What, are we taking everybody?" Dum Dum Dugan looked suspiciously at one of the other prisoners, thinking that he could possibly be a traitor or a double agent from Japan.

    Jim Morita, the said prisoner, took great exception to this though, and pulled out his dog tags. “I’m from Fresno, Ace.”

    “Is there anybody else?” Steve was trying to diffuse the tension between the two soldiers, “I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes."

    “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but only one person has ever come back from there, and she hasn’t been brought back in a couple of days.”

    _She?_ Steve thought, _why would HYDRA take all of these soldiers, of different nationalities, colour, and race, only to have a female prisoner as well?_ It didn’t make any sense, but he couldn’t dwell on that at the moment. He had to get the other prisoners to safety as well.

    “All right. The tree line is northwest, eighty years past the gate.” Steve told them, trying to remember everything he could from his trip inside, “Get out fast, and give ‘em hell. I’ll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find.”

    Steve started walking away from the newly liberated soldiers, trusting that their numbers could overwhelm the HYDRA guards, and they’d be able to get out while he checked the building for any more prisoners that needed saving. He just had a feeling that Bucky was around here, and he had to save the female who was also being held here.

    “Wait!” Gabe told him, and Steve turned around to face the soldiers, “You know what you’re doing?”

    “Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.” And with that, Steve ran off, leaving the soldiers looking at each other confusedly, before they jumped into action.

 

**~oOo~**

 

    While the soldiers started fighting their captors, Johann Schmidt started setting a self-destruct sequence for seven minutes, as Doctor Arnim Zola hurried into his lab to collect all his important research and any documents he might need in the near future.

   And just as the doctor was leaving his lab, Steve came jogging round the corner. The both of them spotted each other, and they both started running in the same direction - one away, and one towards the other. Steve probably would've followed him as well, had it not been for the two voices in the room he almost passed.

    “Please, Bucky. Snap out of it.” The female voice was pleading, and she was most likely on the verge of tears, “You’re stronger than them. Don’t let them win. Prove me right.”

    But the other one, Steve knew it was his best friend, even without seeing his face. “Sergeant. Three, two, five, five, seven…”

    Without even thinking about it, Steve entered the room, and sees James Barnes strapped to a table, and a female he didn’t recognize tied to one opposite him. Even if he had met this woman in the past, he certainly wouldn’t have known who she was. She was almost ghostly pale, with a split lip and other injuries, and looked like she might just keel over if you set her on her own two feet.

   But he was proved wrong when he pulled the straps off her first, and she stood up with no problem. "Regina." She held out her hand for him to shake, before she started pulling away the straps holding Bucky down.

    “Steve Rogers.”

    Regina looked at him, shocked that she was even thinking she’d heard him correctly. “That’s not possible. Steve is a ninety-five pound asthmatic from Brooklyn, who has almost as many health problems as his age… Unless Abe succeeded. He told me he had found the perfect person for Project Rebirth."

    “Lizzie?” The Sergeant calls out, hearing her voice closer then it was before.

    “It’s me, and Steve’s here too.” She may not have fully believed that this was his best friend, but if anybody could tell her if it was true, it would be her Sergeant.

    “Steve?”

   "I thought you were dead," Steve told him, helping him off the table he had been tied to, and having to support him like Steve thought he'd have to do with Regina.

    Bucky takes in his best friends change in appearance, but the face and voice were the same as he remembered. “I thought you were smaller. What happened to you?”

    “I joined the army.” Was Steve’s reply, as he tried to remember where the pins were on the map he’d noticed, and drag his friend out and towards safety.

    “Did it hurt?” Regina asked, bringing up the rear of their little group.

    “A little.”

    “Is it permanent?” Came Bucky’s question, as he started to walk on his own, and checking Regina over for any new injuries she may have gotten while trying to protect him from being harmed.

    “So far.”

 

**~oOo~**

 

    The fight outside was drawing to a close, when the seven minutes of the self-destruct count went to zero; causing multiple explosions to ripple throughout the building.

   A fire was consuming the factory, as the three soldiers tried to find an escape route out of the building, only to come face-to-face with Schmidt and Zola who, it seemed, had been waiting for them to arrive, and to make sure that their only means of escape were cut off.

    Schmidt talked about being a fan of the ‘Captain America’ films, and how he’d been Doctor Erskine’s greatest success, even if he didn’t have a proper face anymore, and was even more sociopathic then before.

    More explosions ripped through the factory, as the German and the Swiss made their escape, while the other three tried to find theirs.

   Steve spotted one though, herding the other two up another flight of stairs so that they could cross over to the other side via a metal beam that was lodged between the two platforms. The beam itself didn't look very stable, but it was the best option they had, given the circumstances.

    “Let’s go. One at a time.” Steve told them, helping Regina over first, as she was the lightest, and then Bucky went after she had climbed over the railing on the other side. And Bucky only just made it, before the beam collapsed behind him.

    “There’s gotta be a rope or something!” Regina called out to him, knowing that there had to be something around here that they could use to pull Steve across to them.

    “Just go! Get out of here!”

    “No! Not without you!”

    Knowing that his best friend wasn’t going to leave him behind, Steve bent one of the rails to make some more room, took a few steps back, and then made the leap of a lifetime; another explosion blocking the view of the two soldiers who refused to leave without him.

 

 


	7. The Birth of the Howling Commandos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the title of the chapter says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. We're now over halfway through the story (there's 12 chapters), and I am so excited for you guys to see my ending. I am so proud of it, and I knew at the beginning of writing that that was how it would end.
> 
> I found out that I'm moving either next week, or the week after, so it may be either Chapter 9 or 10 that gets posted before I move. I'll try to stick to my schedule, but wi-fi might be a bit sqwiffy. If I'm moving next Friday, then I'll post the chapter on Thursday.
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, commented, favourited, subscribed, and all that jazz. Please R&R and comment if you want, I do like to know your opinions.
> 
> T.C
> 
> PS. In Civil War (the story doesn't have a name yet), would you want Bucky and Regina to go to Wakanda, or do you think Dr. Strange should make an appearance? I mean, I could do both, and have Strange come in at the beginning of the story, and then have the two of them given safe haven in Wakanda at the end.
> 
> PPS. What Jacques and Gabe say to each other, that is what they say in the movie, only it's in English. I had to find out what they said, so that I could put it in.
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 7 **

** The Birth of the Howling Commandos **

 

 

    For one awful moment, I actually believed that Steve wasn’t going to make it. He’d risked his life to come save us, and if he didn't survive, then I was going to feel even worse than I did now but he did make it; grabbing the railing, and pulling himself over to the safety of the gangway.

    But this wasn’t the time or the place to celebrate that victory. There would be time to do that when we got out of here, but right now, we had to leave as fast as we could. So Steve opened the door he’d spotted before, and we ran down the stairs, and out into the open air; just before the whole building went up in flames.

    The feeling of being outside after being held for so long was amazing – even if I looked like I’d been dragged through a bush backwards. But that didn’t matter to me. Just feeling the dirt under my feet was enough to bring a smile to my face. The cold was something that I could’ve lived without, but we can’t always get everything we want in life.

    "How does it feel being free, Beth?" Monty yelled from his position on the tank, as we ran over to the freed prisoners. Once he'd learned my real name, he'd started using my nickname.

    “Would’ve been better had we caught Schmidt and Zola, but being outside again is refreshing.” I replied, coming to a stop, “But I’m not letting my guard down until we’re back over our lines. So, what’s your plan, Captain?” I turned around, to see Steve staring at - what looked to be - one of Howard’s transponders, "Well, there goes the quick rescue I was hoping for. We better start walking."

    And so we started making our trek through Austria – Steve leading the way, with Bucky and I by his side. The two of them were joking about their childhood, and it was pretty funny what they got up to. It reminded me a little of what I used to get up to with my brothers.

    When I asked what Abe had thought of the serum being a success, Steve had to break the news about how he’d been shot almost immediately after the experiment had been completed, by a HYDRA assassin by the name of Heinz Kruger. He also said the assassin was dead after biting his cyanide pill.

    After hours of walking, Steve decided that it was a good time to take a break, so that we could have some food that we found in the back of the trucks we’d taken, have a couple hours kip, and figure out a plan of action for the rest of the walk back to camp.

    I knew that at some point, I’d be asked about why I’d been taken prisoner for all these months, and I was hoping to skirt around answering them, but when Steve gave me some pretty impressive puppy dog eyes – prompting Bucky to do the same thing – I knew I couldn’t tell them ‘no’ or avoid the questions.

    "In August nineteen forty-one, I was tasked with the extraction of a German scientist, who'd made contact with the allies, and escort him to the States where he would work with the S.S.R. His name was Doctor Abraham Erskine. He gave us information on Johann Schmidt, and HYDRA, and the serum he'd been working on. Abe told me he'd only gone along with Schmidt because his family had been threatened.

    “It’s how I met Howard. He was the one who picked us up, and I ended up spending a month in New York. MI6 thought I needed some time away from the job, given that Edward was shot down just three months prior, and then just after I got back, William had died as well, so I ended up going back to work with Howard on some of his projects.

    “But then came the news of something called the Tesseract. A small town called Tønsberg, in German-occupied Norway, was attacked in March of forty-two, and the Tesseract was stolen, and everybody in the village was killed by Schmidt.” I told the people who were listening, “So that’s when the research started, and I ended up going to the village. Found out that the Tesseract was being kept in a secret wood carved wall of Yggdrasil – tree of the world and Guardian of wisdom and fate – but a lot of people thought it had been buried with the remains of a Viking. We didn’t have much on it, apart from the fact that it was supposedly the jewel of Odin’s treasure room.

    "My mission was to infiltrate HYDRA, and find out what I could about where they were keeping it, and what they were doing with it… I was only just into my third month when I was taken. They broke into my flat and knocked me out, and then I woke up as a prisoner."

    We moved out not long after I finished my story, agreeing to move for a few more hours before stopping again. The less we rested, the quicker we’d make it back to base, and we were less likely to be taken prisoner again.

    One of the men was kind enough to give me a comb to brush my hair and then handed me a gun. While I might not have been clean, at least I felt more human then I had before that.

 

**~oOo~**

 

    It had to be the coolest thing, walking into the Base Camp three days later with Captain America, Bucky, and all the other one-hundred-and-sixty-three prisoners that had survived the rescue mission, to be greeted with the cheers and applause of some of the people in the camp, while others kept running over when they saw what was happening.

    "Uncle Chester." I ran towards the Colonel, and he pulled me into a hug; taking off his tan jacket and wrapping it round my bare shoulders. I felt like a small child running into the arms of a parent, but he was the only family I had left, even if he wasn't blood-related.

    “Regina. Look at you.” He held me at arms length, taking in how I looked, “Are you alright?”

    “Nothing a few hot meals, a proper shower, a nice bed, and some clean clothes won’t fix.” I grinned, pushing my hair out of my eyes, “It’s good to be outside again, even if I’m not in the same country I was taken from. Peggy!” She ran at me, as I ran to her, and we just remained hugging for a few minutes.

    Steve saluted to Phillips, who didn't salute back. "Some of these men need medical attention." He said as the soldiers he'd rescued were approached by first aiders in the camp, "I'd like to surrender myself for disciplinary action."

    Colonel Phillips looked around at the freed soldiers, before looking back at Steve. “That won’t be necessary.”

    “Yes, Sir.” Steve gave him a small smile.

    Peggy then left me to talk to Steve. I knew that she had a crush on the blond Super Soldier, not that she'd ever admitted it, but I was certain that there would be a wedding between them in the future.

    I wrapped my arm around Bucky’s waist, while he put his round my shoulder. We both looked at each other and smiled. “Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America.” We shouted together, listening to the cheers and clapping renewed.

 

**~oOo~**

 

    After everybody had been treated for their injuries, gotten a few good meals, some sleep, clean clothes, and a shower, we were all shipped off to England for a bit of Rest and Recuperation.

    It was all over the papers that Steve was supposed to pick up a Medal of Valor, but he didn’t want to collect it. He was more concerned with telling the allies everything he’d seen in the factory. So he found himself in one of the Bunkers under London, with Colonel Phillips, Peggy and I.

    "…The fifth one was here in Poland, right near the Baltic." He marked where he'd seen the pin from the map in the lab he'd saved Bucky and me from, "And the sixth one was… About here, thirty, forty miles west of the Maginot Line. I just got a quick look.” He told them, as somebody took away the map we’d been working on.

    “Well, nobody’s perfect.”

    All three of us walked over to another map that Phillips was looking at. It was much bigger than the previous one, and it had the little pieces to represent the HYDRA factories, and a little pole with a ‘H’ flag attached to them.

    “These are the weapons factories we know about.” I told them when we reached the table, feeling uncomfortable being back in my army uniform after so long of being out of it, “HYDRA shipped all the parts to another facility that isn’t on this map. Doubt they’d keep that piece of information in the open where the prisoners could see it, even if they weren’t expecting a rescue attempt."

    Colonel Phillips walked away from the map, leaving the three of us to follow behind him. I knew that this was more likely what I was going to be doing for the rest of the war, seeming as HYDRA, and possibly all Nazi's, now knew what one of the British spies looked like. My usefulness for MI6 was now gone, so I'd be reassigned somewhere else - most likely to a hospital or helping Howard with whatever he needed.

    “Agent Carter, co-ordinate with MI6. I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main HYDRA base.”

    “What about us?” I asked, knowing that he probably wanted me as far away from danger as he could get me. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to be out there, fighting alongside everybody else. Just because I was a woman, did it mean that I wasn’t allowed to do the same as the men?

    “We are gonna set a fire under Johann Schmidt’s ass.” A female soldier handed Phillips a file, and looking through the papers in it, “What do you say, Rogers? It’s your map, you think you can wipe HYDRA off of it?”

    Steve looked back at the map. “Yes, Sir. I’ll need a team.”

    “We’re already putting together the best men.”

    “With all due respect, Sir.” Steve looked at me, and smiled slightly, “So am I."

 

**~oOo~**

 

    Later on, we’d gone to the pub. Bucky and I were in a quieter part of the bar, his arm round my waist, and my head on his shoulder, while still eavesdropping on the soldiers that Steve was asking to be part of his team – the Howling Commandos. It was quite funny actually because we were all mad enough to say yes.

    “So let's get this straight…” Dum Dum started, putting his pint glass down on the table.

    “We barely got out of there alive, and you want us to go back?” Gabe finished, thinking he’d misheard what the Captain had said.

    “Pretty much.”

    Monty was playing with the sleeve of his jacket before he answered. “Sounds rather fun, actually.”

    Jim put his glass down too, belching. “I’m in."

    “ _I’ll fight until the last of these bastards are dead, chained up, or crying like a little baby!_ ”

    “ _Or all three at the same time!_ ”

    “ _Me too!_ ” The two of them shook hands, laughing and looking around at the others around the table, “We’re in.”

    I laughed that there were only three people who could understand what being said by the two of them. “ _Me three._ " I called out to them, and Jacques started smiling like a madman who'd just been told Christmas had come early.

    “Hell, I’ll always fight. But you got to do one thing for me.”

    “What’s that?”

    Dugan downed the last of his pint and put the glass on the table. "Open a tab."

    All of them started laughing the request, and Steve collected all their glasses and took them over to the bar - which had a very confused bartender, who just looked at all the empty glasses, and back to the table where they'd come from. "Another round."

    “Where are they putting all this stuff?”

    Steve then walked around to where Bucky and I were sitting, while somebody started playing the piano, and they all started to sing. They weren’t bad, considering that they were all quite tipsy.

    “See? I told you. They’re all idiots.” I joked, taking a drink of my own pint.

    “What about you? You said yes too.” Steve sat down on the stool next to us, before posing his question to Bucky, “And how about you? You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?”

    “Hell, no.” For a few moments, I actually believed that he was going to say he wasn’t going to come with us, “The little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight. I’m following him.” We all took another drink, “But you’re keeping the outfit, right?"

    The three of us turned to look at the Captain America tour poster, which had another piece of paper part of the picture, saying ‘Tour canceled until further notice' with Steve saluting at whoever happened to look at the poster.

    “You know what? It’s kind of grown on me.”

    Suddenly, all the singing and piano playing in the bar stops, and we all look over to them, only to see Peggy in a tight, red dress that came down to her knees. Steve and Bucky stood up, while I chose to remain seated.

    “Captain.”

    “Agent Carter.” Steve greeted, while Bucky just said, “Ma’am.”

    "Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?" She told Steve and then turned to me, "He also wants you in, as well. Nice and early. He wants to test something, and says you have to be there."

    “Sounds good.” We replied together

    She looked around the bar, taking in the five drunk Howling Commandos at the table in the other part of the pub. “I see your top squad is prepping for duty.”

    “You don’t like music?”

    “We love it. Might even go dancing.”

    “Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky asked, taking my hand, and dragging me into the main part of the bar; whistling and whooping following us.

 

 


	8. Lessons Left To Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a filler, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. I finally found out that I'm moving next Friday, so you may be left on the cliffhanger of C10 for longer then expected. Just depends on how long it takes us to get wi-fi and everything. I hope to stay on schedule, cause there is only 12 chapters.
> 
> Anyway, I'm still taking ideas for the Civil War part of this series. I'm gonna wait till after I see Infinity War before making a lot of serious decisions, just cause I don't wanna do one thing, and then it doesn't make sense.
> 
> I will say that I have no idea if Chester has a son, or if Private Lorraine has a husband, but it's for story purposes. Just go along with it.
> 
> Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, commented, favourited, subscribed, and all that jazz. It really means a lot to me.
> 
> Please R&R and comment if you want.
> 
> T.C
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 8 **

**Lessons Left To Learn**

    Howard and I found ourselves in the lab the next morning, drinking the last of our coffee. He’d flown in from America to test some of the technology that Steve had brought back from the HYDRA factory, and he was excited to get to work. And he said that he couldn’t get started without his favorite science buddy here to help him – which just so happened to be me.

    Even though I knew of the Tesseract, I’d never seen it or what it could do, I had heard Doctor Zola talking about a new energy source that he’d found, and I guessed that was what was being used to power the plane parts we’d been building in the factory, and all the weapons that were being designed. The little, glowing blue ball we were currently studying, looked a lot like what I’d seen in my time of being HYDRA's prisoner.

"Emission signature is unusual. Alpha and beta rays neutral… Though I doubt Rogers picked up on that." Howard said as we both looked into the chamber that held the cartridge that Steve picked up, "Seems harmless enough. Hard to see what all the fuss is about.”

He removed the glowing pellet from the cartridge and touched it with the other mechanical hand, which sparked, and caused an explosion to blow the glass from the chamber. The force also caused Howard, the engineer with us, and myself to fly backwards across the lab; with a lot of glass and smoke to accompany us as we skidded along the floor, before coming to a stop about ten foot back.

    “Somebody write that down.” I groaned, as other people who hadn’t been caught in the explosion, came running over to give us assistance, “And does it seem so harmless now, Sparky?”

    Colonel Phillips soon joined us after he heard about what happened. He found Howard and I holding cloths to our heads to stop the bleeding, and groaning at all the aches that our bodies had now acquired.

    “We really should’ve thought this through.” Howard yelled, so he could hear what he was saying, “Or at least had more protection.”

    “What!” I was trying to hear him over the ringing in my ears, and shouting at each other seemed to be the best form of communication at the moment.

Thankfully by the time Steve came in, the ringing had died down to a manageable level that we could speak to each other, and other people, normally. I was happy about it not being permanent because otherwise, my new job as a Howling Commando would be going down the toilet, faster than shit off a shovel. 

"Fondue is just chess and bread, Stevie," I told him, walking with him and Howard to clean part of the lab… Or at least, a part of the lab that wasn’t covered in glass from this morning - even if they were still cleaning it up.

    “Really? I didn’t think…”

    “Nor should you, pal. The moment you know what’s going on in a woman’s head, it’s the moment your goose is well and truly cooked.” We walked past scientists doing their own thing, “Me, I concentrate on work. Which at the moment, is about making sure you guys don’t get killed. Carbon polymer.” He picked up some of the fabric from the table, “Should withstand your average German bayonet, although HYDRA’s not going to attack you with a pocket knife.” Then he picked up Steve’s shield, “I hear you’re uh… Kinda attached.”

    We continued to walk further into the lab. “It’s handier then you might think.”

    “I took the liberty of coming up with some options.” Howard pointed to a table where he’d lined up all the different shield’s he’d designed, “This one’s fun. She’s been fitted with electrical relays. It’ll allow you to…”

    But Steve wasn’t listening to him. His attention had been drawn to a round sheet of metal that wasn’t even on the table, and it looked nothing like any of the other shields that he was being shown. He bent down to pick it up, feeling the weight of it. “What about this one?”

"No! No! That's just a prototype." He tried to take it off of Steve, but he just moved away and continued to examine the shield. 

    “What’s it made of?”

    “Vibranium. It’s stronger than steel, and a third of the weight. And it’s completely shock absorbent.” I told him, smiling when he put his arm through the holds on the back, “I told Howard you’d like this one.”

    “How come it’s not standard issue?”

    “That’s the rarest metal on Earth. What you’re holding there? That’s all we’ve got.”

    Peggy walked in at this moment. She didn’t even acknowledge that Steve was even standing in the room, which was odd, considering that she talked to him last night as if he was the only person in the pub. “If you’re quite finished, Mr. Stark? I’m sure the Captain had some unfinished business.”

    Yeah, she was pissed off with him. I’d have to find out why, but whatever it was, it had happened between last night and this morning. And while I was concerned for my friend, I was slightly more fearful for Steve, cause he was the one in the firing line. Literally.

    Steve just held up his shield, not quite realizing what he was in for. “What do you think?” He asked, only just getting his shield up in time to protect himself from the bullets that Peggy decided to fire at him.

"Yes, I think it works." She put the gun down and walked out of the lab; leaving Steve and Howard looking shocked, and me with my ears ringing again.

    “What the hell, Peg?” I yelled, shaking my head and hoping she could hear me, “I just got rid of the ringing from before, and now it’s come back.”

    “I had some ideas about the uniform.” Steve handed Howard a piece of paper, not even listening to my yells, as he continued to watch where Peggy had just disappeared.

"Whatever you want, pal," Howard replied, taking the paper from him, while he too was still in a state of shock about what he'd just seen the Agent do; not knowing whether he should be awed or not. 

    I continued to rub my ears while this was going on; happy that the ringing was slowly ebbing away, a lot faster than before. “I also have some suggestions of my own, because last time you made me something, it turned out to be a lot of lingerie. And while that has come in very handy, I want nothing like that for my uniform.” I said to him, before running out the way Peggy had left.

** ~oOo~ **

    It didn’t take me long to find my friend. She was stood over one of the maps, looking like she was trying to burn holes in the paper. Maybe she was actually trying to blow up HYDRA just by staring intently at where their bases were on the map, but even with the best will in the world, I didn’t think that would work.

    “What did he do?” Peggy jumped, and looked round to where I was leaning on the doorframe behind her, “I’ve known you for years, so I know when something’s bothering you. And you don’t shoot at just any guy.”

"He was kissing that blond Private." She was trying not to let her anger out on anybody, or anything, else, "I can't remember her name, but they nearly had their tongues rammed down each other's throats. I thought he was different, but he's just like all the other soldiers, just like he wanted." 

    “Lorraine. And she holds nothing against you, Peg.” I told her, putting an arm round her shoulders, “But I know the perfect way to get back at her.”

    “What about Steve?”

A small laugh escaped from me. "After the look of a kicked puppy that he had after you shot at him, he'll be out to apologize to you before the day is out." I couldn't stop the sly smile that crept onto my face, "I think he likes you. That's why he was so jealous of you and Howard. But you also like him, because if you didn't, you wouldn't be so mad at him and Private Lorraine." 

She huffed and glared at me. I wanted to throw my arms in the air as a sign of victory, but I had a feeling that Peggy would punch me in the ribs if I did. And that would hurt, and most likely leave a bruise. I already had the cuts on my head, and probably already had some bruises on my back, so I didn't need any more injuries to add to my already long list.

    “So how do we get back at the Private? You said you had the perfect way to get back at her.”

    “She’s married.” I smiled.

    “And how does that help us?” She asked, seeming to get impatient with me, and my answers, “We can’t exactly confront her with just that."

    I tried to look offended, but it never worked when I was with my friends; as my acting skills seemed to go down the drain, “Oh, ye of little faith. You know my brother Will?” She nodded, “Well, Chester’s son wasn’t the only person he gave his life for. Would you like to take a guess at who else?”

    “Her husband?”

"Exactly. And Charles came to his memorial. We keep in regular contact, and I bet he would just love to hear about his wife's extramarital activities, don't you think?” I told her, “I know I certainly would if it was Bucky. Not that he’d cheat on me, or I on him, but I would still like to know if it happened.”

    Peggy looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I couldn’t quite keep the smile off of my face. It had been my job, for years, to gather information, and to always have a plan. This wasn’t any different, apart from the fact that this wasn’t work, it was for pleasure.

So we got to work on how exactly we were going to use the information we had at our disposal, and how to do it without being overheard by anybody. The last thing we needed, was to get caught blackmailing army personnel, it didn't matter that she was basically just a glorified secretary, she still worked for the army.

By the time we'd planned it all out, it was getting close to lunch. Most people went out to eat, but some stayed behind. It would be the safest time to talk to Lorraine – apart from when everyone went home – without getting caught. She normally worked through lunch so she could go home early.

"Hello, Private. I think it's time we had a little chat." I leaned against her desk and gave a small smirk. 

 

**~oOo~**  

The talk with Lorraine went better than expected, but Peggy still wasn't going to forgive either the Private or Steve. She was stubborn that way, but I wouldn't change her for the world. It was her stubborn streak that made her more interesting then most of the women I'd met, and the reason she had lasted so long as my friend. 

    Watching Steve run after her though, was very funny, and I had to cover my mouth with my hand, to stop any sound from accompanying my amusement. The more I got to know Steve, the more I kept on thinking about how he was a little like an overgrown puppy – innocent and sweet.

    I knew that at some point, he was going to come to me for help, but that wasn’t going to be today. Since getting back, I hadn’t spent as much time as I would have liked with Bucky. To think that we’d been together for over a year, yet hardly spent any time with each other - only exchanging letter until I’d been taken.

    So off I went in search of him. I knew he’d either be in the pub, or he’d be at the hotel, trying to get used to a proper bed. It was hard, after sleeping on the ground for so long, to get used to having an actual mattress beneath you.

    “Hey, Buck.” I said, spotting him at the bar, pint in hand, “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

    "Lizzie… What happened to your head?” He asked, spotting the cuts on my cheeks and forehead, “You didn’t have those when you left me this morning."

    Sitting down, I ordered my own drink. “Howard decided to play with something he didn’t understand. My hearing has come back though, and if I’m not near any loud things for a couple of weeks, I should be fine.”

Bucky put his arm round my shoulders, and I leaned into him. It was nice and normal. I felt safe for the first time in years. I wasn't undercover, I wasn't collecting information, or smuggling somebody out of a war zone. I was just a normal person, in a bar, with my sweetheart. 

    “Do I have to go teach Howard a lesson?” He kissed the top of my head, “Cause I can. You know I can.”

    “I know you can, but he is my friend. And he didn’t get out of the mini explosion unscathed either.” I told him, taking a drink, “He got a few cuts, and was thrown across the room by the blast… I was too, but he got more of the force”

We just sat and talked for a while. I explained the situation to Steve, Peggy, and Lorraine – which Bucky found very amusing as well – and some of what Howard had planned for us, including weapons and the uniform. He loved that Steve had chosen to stay true to the original design of his stage costume, only with some more practical modifications.

    If we weren’t in the middle of a war, I would’ve felt more at ease. But with what happened in forty and forty-one, with the Blitz, you couldn’t be too careful. Anything could happen at any moment, and we just had to be ready when it came.

 


	9. Always On The Front Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MONTAGE!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. This is the montage scene of TFA. I tried to bulk it out a bit, and made some stuff up, but whatever. It's like a three minute scene, and I was able to get over 2,000 words out of it, so I'm happy.
> 
> I watched Thor Ragnarok yesterday as well. I got it on Blu Ray, and it was the first time I'd seen it. Wasn't disappointed, and mama really like it when Hiddles was in chains. I also think that Elrond, Thorin, Galadriel, and Eomer, were having a bad day - I confuse people with that, let's see who gets it.
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, commented, favourited, subscribed, and all that jazz.
> 
> Please R&R/comment if you want to.
> 
> T.C
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 9 **

** Always On The Front Lines **

    Putting on the uniform for the first time, was amazing. It was comfortable – which is a big thing to have when you’re going to be wearing it for a long time – and it was actually practical to wear. None of this ‘ladies have to wear skirts or dresses’ bullshit that seemed to be thrown around by society.

    My uniform consisted of a dark blue pea coat that was a bit longer than Bucky’s – it kept me warm, and I could wear a normal, baggy shirt under it – a pair of black trousers with lots of pockets for extra ammunition, and other tools I may need, and some army issue combat boots. I even had two gun holsters strapped to my thighs, and they were hidden by the length of my coat.

"This is better than I imagined, Howard. Thank you.” Pulling him in for a long hug, and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

And then it was time to leave for our first official mission as The Howling Commandos. All the training and weapons testing we'd been doing for the past month came down to this. And I knew that we were more than ready to go storming all the HYDRA bases we could find. The only question was, were they ready for us? 

    There was something inside me that wanted this to be easy, where we could just kick their asses and move on to the next base. But then there was part of me that wanted this to be hard. For it to be a challenge, where it would get a bit rough and tumble, and I could make them pay for what they did to us. I didn’t want them to have a quick death… I wanted them to suffer.

But I did have to admit, kicking down the door and going in all guns blazing, was a fun way to make the point that we were after every last one of them and that we weren't going to stop until either us, or them, were dead. 

    We’d chosen the first base at random, and we weren’t going to stick to any sort of pattern either. We didn’t want them to figure out which base we were going to hit next – which would give them time to escape. We wanted them to know we were coming for them, and being scared of whether they were going to live to see the next day.

Now, while this may seem like I'm taking this personally, I had just over eight months of pent up anger and hate towards anybody, and anything, who worked for HYDRA, and I had to let it out somehow. And what better people to take it out on? 

    Blowing up the factories was satisfying as well. Knowing that there were still HYDRA agents alive inside when the building went up in smoke, was a small comfort that they knew they were going to die as soon as the timer ticked down to zero.

    I also found that Schmidt’s possible rage at finding the destruction we left, brought a smile to my face. Just imagining him arriving to the fires, and dead bodies, and another one of his factories gone, and the anger radiating off of him… It was enough to help me sleep through the night with no images of the mutilated bodies of the prisoners who never made it out of HYDRA's Austrian Munitions factory alive. 

** ~oOo~ **

    The HYDRA bases that we’d mapped in the bunker, had pieces coming off it every couple of weeks. The fewer we had, the safer we were making the people and soldiers who were in the area.

A light dusting of snow had fallen before we made it to the second base, and we had been forced to bring reinforcements with us. I thought us eight Howling Commandos were fine for the jobs, but it was safer to have more people when it was foggy and had the possibility of being ambushed without anybody noticing that they were there. But it also made us a bigger target, and it was harder to hide our movements.

    It was while we were creeping through the trees, that I spotted somebody up in one of the branches - almost concealed by the leaves - but it was the slight rustling that alerted his presence to me. Steve spotted him as well, and just as I was about to take the shot, he threw his shield towards the guy, and he fell out of the tree.

    Steve caught the shield as it came back to him, and the HYDRA agent landed hard on the snowy ground. I was a little annoyed that I didn’t get to shoot him from his perch, but I was also glad that he’d been spotted before he could harm anybody from the team.

    “I had him, you know? I could’ve easily taken him out.” I grumbled, making sure the guy from the tree was knocked out, before turning back to our leader - who was putting the shield back on his arm, “Just a couple more seconds, and he’d have been singing hymns with the Devil.”

"Sorry, Beth. I saw him and reacted." He got one of my ‘I forgive you, but I'm not amused' looks that I'd given Bucky quite a few times in the last couple of weeks when he'd started pinching bits of food off my plate. 

    However, I couldn’t stay mad at Steve forever, especially when he led us into a firefight where I was allowed to go wild with how I killed the HYDRA bastards, who kept failing to take us out when we were running through the woods. When I ran out of bullets, it was fun using knives on them. And they didn't see me coming until it was too late to defend themselves. For people with such expensive and technologically advanced weapons, they really did have horrible aim.

    Charging into these places with my friends by my side, was a lot more fun then having to pretend that I was somebody else, and going into dangerous places not knowing if I’d been found out. At least here I knew that I was running headfirst into danger, so I could equip myself for any and all eventualities.

    My favorite mission though, was when we blew up an unsuspecting HYDRA tank. It was better than when my mother left a Pyrex plate on the hot stove and it exploded; leaving burn marks in the carpet. I always found that story funny, though my parents weren’t that impressed when we gave the burn marks names.

Jacques and I had spent hours talking in French about how we wanted it to look, and how big we wanted the explosion to be. I loved how he was the explosives expert on the team, and that he was willing to experiment with different materials to create something that nobody was expecting. 

Howard gave us some impressive materials from his private stock, but being the army’s best weapons contractor, he could do that. He also helped us find the best metal to encase the bomb in, for maximum damage when thrown into a group of enemies, or placed in a building or vehicle.

    When Jim saw the approaching vehicle, he flashed his light once and whistled for Jacques to run out in front of the tank, lay on the ground, and attach our bomb to the underside of it, while it was still moving. He then stood up, put his fingers in his ears, and waited for the explosion that was about to follow.

    And it did not disappoint. It was actually bigger then I was expecting it to be. At least we now knew that we could blow up one of the massive, armored vehicles with something that was relatively small and light.

    I pumped my fist in the air, both Jacques and I looking very pleased with ourselves. The others were in varying degrees of shock and amazement at what they’d just seen, and it was Dum Dum that broke the silence when he started laughing at how well our mad idea worked. 

** ~oOo~ **

    Sometimes we were followed round with cameras, just so headquarters could see how well we were doing. It annoyed me a lot, because it meant that we had to look out for them, as well as ourselves, but we had to play ball, if you will, to keep everybody happy. And the sooner they left, the sooner we could go back to doing what we do best.

Steve ended up getting annoyed with them as well when they filmed us looking over a map of the area, and discussing the best way of getting in unseen, and they asked about the picture of the girl in the compass. He didn't like that they were trying to pry into his personal life when we were doing something more important, and that needed to be their main concern, not gossip. 

Bucky just ended up getting angry at them, when they started saying derogatory things about me – mainly because I was a woman, and apparently I was only being kept around to make sure the boys had some entertainment, and keep them fed after a long day of fighting.

All the boys wanted to do something about it, but I soon showed them not to make crude comments about me, when I aimed a gun at them and fired. It was funny to watch just how quickly their faces went sheet white, and then realize that they'd be dead without me… But that was only when they saw the body of the HYDRA soldier with a bullet between his eyes. The comments about me stopped after that.

    We moved out of that location as soon as we had a solid plan. It was best to never stay in the same place for longer than we had to because it was dangerous. Staying longer then we had to, could mean the difference between life and death… Going free, or being captured.

    Had it not been for Bucky though, all of us would most likely be dead. Hunting round the ruin and rubble of some building, which was still on fire, a shot rang out from above, which was followed by a thump. All of us turned to look at the dead HYRDA agent in his uniform, with a bullet through his head. Steve looked up towards Bucky – who was reloading his rifle – and gave him a little salute. Bucky wasn’t one of the best snipers for nothing. He knew what he was doing.

    But I felt awful about it. If Bucky hadn’t been watching our backs from his position on the ridge, would any of us have seen him? I don’t think I would’ve seen him until it was too late, and that was what filled me with anxiety. In the end, I got so worked up, that I ended up having a panic attack at camp later that night, and apologizing about how I could have killed them all. To be honest, I was surprised that this was the first time any of us had broken down about something that had happened – or at least the first time in front of the team.

The destruction of that factory though ended up taking another one of the ‘H' pins off of the board at HQ; leaving one less base in Germany. I knew there was another two close by, so we were going to be hitting those ones over the next week or so. We seemed to be finding more and more bases, with more being found in Austria, northern Italy and most of Germany.

    At first, a lot of people laughed at Steve’s shield, it came in very handy. It seemed to defy the laws of Physics – acting a little like a boomerang – and was very handy at knocking people out. And with his newfound strength, when he hit our enemies, he could actually hit them clean off the ground, and out of the way with just one punch or one whack with the shield. 

And we also found another use for our bombs as well. They worked just as well when chucked inside of the tanks as well, with it only destroying it slightly slower than when placed underneath them. The explosion was still impressive though and caused more flaming debris to fly everywhere. 

    Steve’s shield smashed the lock to the door, he pulled out one of the officers, he caught the bomb that Monty threw at him from the ground, chucked it in, and then leaped from the tank as it exploded. None of us would've believed it if we'd just heard the story. You had to be there to believe it. 

Everything was going according to plan. The bases were being taken down quickly – even if it wasn’t exactly quietly – HYDRA knew what we were doing – we made sure that they were scared of us – and Johann Schmidt was angry as hell… But nothing can stay perfect forever, even in a tiny team like ours. Eventually, something has to go wrong, and when it comes, it is inevitable to stop.

 


	10. Never Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. Let me just say, I'm so sorry for the end of this chapter. Given the title of this chapter, and if you know the move, then you know what's going to happen. I cried a little when I was writing this.
> 
> Good news though, I'm only going to be without wi-fi for Friday, and some of Saturday. So I should be able to upload the last 2 chapters on Monday and Friday next week. Whoop! I also move on Friday, so I'm gonna be travelling for most of the day.
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter. Thanks to all of all of you who have favourited, subscribed, followed, and all that jazz.
> 
> Please R&R and comment if you want.
> 
> T.C
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 10 **

**Never Coming Home**

    Today was the day. It was the day that we were going to get our hands on the information we’d been after for weeks – the exact location of the last HYRDA base. The one where Schmidt had been hiding for the past few months.

    We’d been given information – and heard – that there was a possibility that Zola was going to be on a train, but it hadn't been confirmed yet. However, we were still ready to infiltrate the train at a moments notice and were listening in to every frequency for a hint that it was going to be our lucky day. 

    Monty had the binoculars out for the first glimpses of our target, Gabe and Jim were listening in on the transmissions, while the rest of us just lingered around on the mountainside, waiting for instructions on what to do next, while trying not to freeze to death in the late December air. Dugan got a bit too close to the edge for my liking, but he knew what he was doing, and if I yelled at him, he could easily fall.

    While Jim fiddled with the frequency of our radio, Bucky stood next to Steve; the wind pushing their hair back, and turning their cheeks a slight pink colour.

    “Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?” He asked his best friend, looking over the edge of the cliff at the tracks below.

    “Yeah, and I threw up?”

    “This isn’t payback, is it?”

Steve looked at where our zip line was anchored on the cliff face across from us. “Now why would I do that?” His voice asking the question a bit too innocently.

    The joke conversation stopped when Gabe and Jim found the frequency they were after. “We were right. Doctor Zola is on the train.” He told us, translating what was being said through the airwaves, “HYDRA dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle.”

"Wherever he's going, they must need him bad," I commented, getting everything I needed for the trip across to the train. I couldn’t take anything bulky or heavy, and anything I didn’t need, was being left with the ones not coming with us to get Zola. No use taking anything I didn’t need.

While Steve put on his helmet, Monty looked through the binoculars again. The train was on its way, and while it would have to slow down round the bends – unless it wanted to fall down the side of the mountains – it was still coming in pretty fast, and it was going to be a tight squeeze to get four of us onto the top of the train in our time limit.

"Let's get going because they're moving like the devil." 

"We've only got about a ten-second window." Steve reminded us, hooking his pulley over the line, "You miss that window, we're bugs on a windshield." 

    “Mind the gap.”

    “Better get moving, bugs!”

I shook my head at the three of them, smiling as Bucky, Gabe and I hooked our pulleys over the line as well. It saved time, and we could get across quicker, which is something we definitely needed. We had to be faster than Jesse Owens at the thirty-six Olympic Games.

    Jacques gave us the command to go and, one at a time, we took a metaphorical leap of faith off the ledge, and flew down the line towards the speeding train; letting go when we were at a safe height above the train roof, and we didn't have a lot of lines left to mess it up. Our plan worked though. The four of us ended up safely on the roof, just before it went round another bend.

    We silently made our way towards the compartment that we needed. It had been decided that I was going to go with Bucky and Steve to cause a distraction, and Gabe was going apprehend Zola on his own. He looked intimidating with the machine gun, even if he was actually a teddy bear.

    Steve made his way down the ladder first – his shield on his back – while the rest of us stood guard and alert, in case of any HYDRA muscle coming out onto the roof to fight us. We’d be ready if they did that.

    But they didn’t. Steve opened the door and jumped in, and then he was followed by Bucky, and then finally be me, before closing the door. His shield was now on his arm, ready to fend off an attack at any moment.

    All of us got our guns out within seconds of breaching the train. Although the carriage was empty, it was better to be safe and get out, then stupid and get killed because of an amateur mistake.

    The carriage itself was filled with, what I assumed to be, weapons and ammunition, filled with the energy that Howard and I had been studying over the past year; the overhead lights illuminating the boxes. We still hadn’t figured out how they’d managed to concentrate the Tesseract’s energy, or where they were keeping it, but it was still as volatile as it had been the first time we’d tried to test it.

    However, I did find it strange that they had an open door at the end of the carriage, when the door closest to the one we’d come through, was closed. Why keep only one door open? Why not both of them? Or none of them?

    Slowly, we made our way down the carriage – Steve and Bucky facing forwards, while I walked backwards; keeping an eye on the closed door at the opposite end. And it seemed like Steve thought it strange as well, because when he got to the end of the carriage, he looked back at the closed door, and then back to the open one he was standing next to.

    And while Bucky and I gave one last look around the carriage we were standing in, Steve ventured forward; walking into the divide between the two doors, and out into another carriage.

    Then suddenly, just before Bucky went to follow Steve, the doors slammed shut; leaving Bucky and me on one side, and Steve on the other. There was nothing we could do but look through the glass at each other. That's when we knew that this was a trap. It wasn't like we weren't prepared, just that we were hoping to surprise them, not the other way around. 

    HYDRA agents stormed in through the once closed door, trapping us. They had us just where they wanted – divided, and with no possible means of escape. We couldn’t get to Steve, or use our entry point as an escape route.

Bullets started flying everywhere, forcing us to dive for cover, before returning fire. Not that there was much cover, to begin with, but a couple of crates was better than nothing. 

I felt the telltale burning sensation that accompanied getting shot before I actually felt any pain. Even though it was only a graze, it still stung, and it still bled a lot – leg wounds tend to do that. So I fished out a bandage from my coat pocket and wrapped it round my leg; putting enough pressure to help stop the bleeding, but not enough to cut off the circulation. That was the last thing I needed. 

    Even though I couldn’t see what Steve was having to deal with, I could hear some loud bangs from the carriage he was in. Whoever, or whatever, had been sent after Steve, sounded a lot scarier then what we were having to face.

    “ _Stop him!_ ” I heard Zola’s voice come through the trains tannoy system, reinforcing the fact that he was on the train, and that he could see exactly what we were doing inside the train, “ _Fire again!_ ”

    Bucky and I continued firing against the HYDRA agents in our carriage, but with their heavy fire, it made it hard to get a clear shot at them, as they continued to make their way towards us; more agents replacing the ones that we’d managed to injure at some point.

    The bullets ricocheted against the metal walls, as Bucky reloaded his rifle. I knew that it was his last magazine, and I was almost out of bullets myself. Could this day get any worse?

We only had a very small backup plan in the case that we ran out of bullets, and that was the extra gun that Bucky had managed to bring with him. And we only had the bullets in the magazine already in the gun. After that, we had nothing else left at our disposal. 

So as the HYDRA agents started to come closer, Bucky used a few of the remaining bullets to shoot towards one of the few remaining enemies we had and to change his position. But the bullets soon ran out, and we were only left with the hunting knife I had hidden in my boot. 

    ‘ _I love you._ ’ I mouthed to Bucky, knowing that this was likely where we were going to die. A hunting knife is good for stealth attacks, but when you have people with guns, shooting at you, it doesn’t really help.

    But just when all hope seemed lost, the door closest to us opened, and Steve tossed his loaded pistol to Bucky, just before he ran towards one of the long boxes with his shield; sending it straight towards the last HYDRA agent. He, of course, stepped out of the way… Only to get killed by the perfectly aimed bullet from Bucky.

    “I had him on the ropes.”

    “I know you did.”

    I was just so relieved that we made it out alive, and almost unscathed. We might have been a little shaken, but we weren’t showing it on the outside. There was time for that later, and while we had to meet Gabe, he could manage a few more minutes without us… I hope.

"We're alive!" I bought the two of them in for a hug, just needing a moment to process that we'd actually won, "We're okay. Just need to get Zola, and we're… Shit! Steve!" 

    Emerging from the smoke in the doorway to the next carriage, was the agent I assumed Steve had been up against. He looked huge, and the massive, glowing piece of weaponry he had seemed to make him even bigger. And from the sounds of it, the weapon was being powered up.

    “Get down!” Steve yelled, pushing us behind him, as he brought his shield up to protect us.

    The force of the blast, caused Steve to be thrown backwards, and the energy not absorbed by the shield, took out the side of the train carriage; leaving a lovely view of the mountains, which I didn’t really want to be looking at as they flew past us.

    “ _Fire again!_ ” Zola’s voice came through the speakers again, as Bucky picked up Steve’s shield, “ _Kill him! Now!_ ”

    Bucky stood up – the shield in his left hand, and the gun in his right – and started firing towards our last enemy. I had only just stood up when the weapon started powered up and fired again. Only problem was, that I was just behind Bucky when it was fired, and it sent the both of us tumbling out of the train. 

By pure luck, I was able to grab Bucky's wrist in my right, and one of the handrails in my left. I felt my right shoulder slide out of its socket at the sudden stop and the weight that had stopped with us. 

    “Lizzie, just let go of me!”

    “No, I’m not leaving you!” I tightened my hold on the bar and his arm, “You know my saying, James, and I know yours! And if the roles were reversed, you would do exactly the same as I am!"

    That’s when Steve made his way to the opening. His helmet was off, and he grabbed the railing closest to the charred metal door, made by the weapon that had sent Bucky and I careening through the opening.

    “Bucky! Beth!” He started making his way towards us, “Hang on! Grab my hand!”

    I tried to swing Bucky towards him, but the pain in my shoulder just became worse, and my grip on the railing started to slip. “I can’t!” I yelled, trying not to cry out in agony when I attempted to swing him again, “I can’t get Buck to you, not with my dislocated shoulder!”

    The railing which I'd grabbed onto, started to come away from the side of the train. It was no longer able to take the weight of the both of us anymore. In a last-ditch attempt, I tried to swing Bucky towards Steve's outstretched hand, but it didn't work. The bar broke off of the train and left the two of us falling. 

    We both screamed, but there was nothing anybody could do. Not even Captain America, who was known as ‘the Super Soldier’ to a lot of people. Even Howard said it ‘the Super Soldier Serum’ that turned Steve from a ninety pound asthmatic, to two hundred and twenty pounds of pure muscle.

    Steve’s scream of ‘no!’ echoed in the cold air; the train continuing its journey, as we fell towards the icy waters, and to our deaths.


	11. This Isn't How Our Story Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experiments begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. I've moved into a rented place, and will stay here for a couple of months, before moving into the real house. And because of this, the second story in this series - The Ghost of You - which follows The Winter Soldier, will not be posted until much later in the year. I am sorry for this, because I was working on Chapter 5 before the move, but cause the circumstances have changed, it's gonna take a bit longer to finish the story.
> 
> But just cause I can't write TGoY, doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing entirely. I have a Teen Wolf/SPN crossover called Fear of Falling, a Twilight one called Surrender The Night, an Avengers fic called On Thin Ice, and a Teen Wolf/Maze Runner crossover called The Only Exception, on the go. I plan to work on those while in rented, and when we move into the house. When I get sorted, then I'll start working on TGoY again.
> 
> Anyway, on with the story. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, commented, subscribed, favourited, and all that jazz.
> 
> Please R&R and comment if you want.
> 
> T.C
> 
> PS. Only one more chapter after this.
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 11 **

**This Isn’t How Our Story Ends**

Falling. That was what was happening, and it seemed like it was going on forever, when it was really only a few seconds before we were falling into the freezing water of the Danube River, somewhere in Germany. 

Bucky was screaming, but I couldn't. All I could feel was the pain in my shoulder from where it had been pulled from its socket and the ice cold water as it seeped its way though my Howling Commandos uniform. 

To the best of my ability, I pulled Bucky from the river, and out onto the snowy shore. It wasn't much better, but at least we may last longer in the snow, then we would in the water. Maybe we could even last long enough to be rescued because I knew Steve wouldn't give up on us, even if he thought we were dead. He'd bring us home. 

But that's when I noticed Bucky's arm, or what was left of it. His left arm had all but been ripped from his body and was currently bleeding onto the pristine snow – turning it from bright white to a deep red. 

I felt sick, but now wasn't the time to lose it. Bucky needed me calm, otherwise, he would start to panic, which would cause his heart to beat faster, and that in turn, would cause him to bleed out faster than he already was. There would be time later when help came, but for the moment, I had to be the one to help him. Good thing I actually knew what I was doing. 

So I removed the belt of my coat and tied it round what remained of his arm. I would have preferred to have had some better supplies, but there wasn't much I could do from here, apart from trying to keep him alive until help came. And while I knew it was risky to pop my own shoulder back into place, it was something I was willing to do. I could end up causing permanent damage if I didn't do anything now. 

    The pain was unimaginable, and I thought that being tortured was bad enough. Having the serum being injected into me, was only slightly more painful than having to pop your own shoulder back into place. 

I'm pretty sure that I passed out at some point because when I woke up, we were surrounded by soldiers in foreign military uniforms. I knew the uniforms weren’t that of the German military, but those of the USSR – the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, or the Soviet Union. They might have been on the side of the Allies, but we were part of Captain America’s team, and HYDRA had put a nice sum of money on the heads of any members. Imagine how much two members would be worth?

    And when they saw the Howling Commandos patches on our jackets, they knew that they were in for a pretty penny. They started dragging us through the snow; leaving a line of red from where Bucky’s arm was still bleeding, and the both of us were too weak to fight them off. Whether it was from the cold, or blood loss, we were at the complete mercy of the soldiers who had found us.

    In my opinion, it probably would’ve been better if we’d died when we fell from the train, and it currently would have been better then what they were planning to do to us, but we wouldn’t be that lucky. It was probably due to the experimentations that Zola had done to us, that enabled us to survive an impact from that height and speed.

    However, Zola had been captured, and Schmidt wasn’t interested in studying us, as he was in killing us. Zola would want to keep us around, to see what had happened to our bodies since he last injected us, while Schmidt just wanted to take over the world and take away Captain America's spirit.

    I’d heard a phrase a few times, and it worked well for the situation we were in. My brothers used to say it to me, and Chester had said it in passing as well – 'if you want to defeat your enemy, you don’t take away their courage. You take away their hope.’ 

 

**~oOo~**  

    As much as I wanted them to knock me out, they didn’t. I was made to stay awake throughout everything from the bumpy truck ride, to the labs which they were keeping us. If I even so much as closed my eyes for a few seconds, they started using electric shocks on me, just to make sure that I wasn’t falling asleep or dead.

Then they started operating on Bucky if you could even call it that. They got some sort of saw connected to a power cable and started cutting off most of what remained of his arm. And they'd obviously never heard of anesthetic because Bucky started screaming almost as soon as the saw touched his arm. I hated being in the same room, listening as he screamed in pain, and not being able to save him. It was just like being back in Zola's lab again. 

I could feel the tears rolling down my face, though it just made them smile. But I also had the feeling that they needed us alive, to get paid, so they were doing what they could to make sure that Bucky had two arms instead of one when HYDRA came to collect us. Maybe they would get more money if we had some improvement… Or perhaps these Russian scientists were working with HYDRA, and this had been their plan all along. 

    But nobody could have predicted that either of us would fall from the train. That we’d be standing in the exact spots that we were, or that we could have even survived a fall like that. The odds would be astronomical. A one in a million chance. Even the position of where the train would be at the time of our fall, cause they couldn’t have predicted exactly how long the fights were going to be.

    So even if they had planned for somebody to fall from the train, there were so many other factors they couldn’t have planned in any sort of detail. The only thing that this situation was, was a massive coincidence, and they just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

This whole plan though could have been thought out months ago. They couldn't have been this prepared otherwise. So while the situation we're currently in, might have just been a happy accident – for them – perhaps this is what Zola had planned for us, before Steve ended up liberating all of the prisoners.

That was actually a terrifying thought. That they'd been planning this for a while, and just didn't have a test subject that they wanted. Now they had two, and everybody probably thought that we'd died in the fall. There wouldn't be any urgency to start the search for our bodies. It could take them days, if not weeks, for them to send a search party for us because they had bigger things to worry about. 

    It got me thinking though, about why they chose us. But then it hit me. They were looking for any Howling Commando, and they just got lucky with getting the two who had been the human guinea pigs of the serum in the first place. They would most likely have done the same thing to anybody they found. The only thing they didn’t have to do, was inject us with the serum again.

    By this point, I’m sure that Bucky had passed out from the pain, as I couldn’t hear him screaming anymore. On one hand, that was a good thing. He wasn’t having to suffer through that anymore. On the other, they didn’t have to take any kind of care with how they treated him. As long as they kept him alive, they could do whatever they wanted to him… Like burning metal onto the shoulder, back, and chest of his left side.

To replace his left arm, they had some sort of metal to attach to his body. Now I assumed that they wouldn't be giving him a useless arm, so it was most likely some sort of mechanical or cybernetic one, and it was most definitely going to be stronger than his real one. It also looked to be made from plates that could move – possibly so that nothing could get stuck in the arm.

    The smell of the burning flesh and blood, was enough to make my stomach turn. I couldn't even imagine how much pain he would be in when he woke up, and all I wanted to do, was be able to take his pain. To share the burden being forced upon him so that he didn't have to face it alone.

    Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew that they weren’t going to operate on me, but I also knew that I wasn’t going to get off lightly. Psychological torture can be just as effective as physical, and it also took a lot longer to heal. It wasn’t something that you could see or even touch, but it could haunt you for the rest of your life, with nobody being able to see the scars it left.

 

**~oOo~**  

Everything started to blur together after that. Apart from the clock on the wall, there was no way to tell how fast time was going. There was no calendar to tell what day it was, and they were very careful not to leave anything laying around for me to piece it together. They also never talked about the date or anything important, when they found out I could speak Russian. 

    They always made sure the lights were on, at the same brightness, day and night, and we were never kept in a room with any windows. Sensory deprivation was always so much fun. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have enough of that the first time I was taken by HYDRA. It was so much fun the first time, that I just needed to have some more.

    In fact, the only time they did let us know the date, was when they brought in a newspaper; dated almost two weeks after Bucky and I had fallen to our deaths. I didn’t think that was an accident, because of the headline – _CAPTAIN AMERICA MISSING_ – and they weren’t fooling me that this was anything recent.

    Nothing they did fooled me, until one day, when Doctor Zola walked into the lab; a smirk on his face. He was one of the last people I wanted to see right now, and things just seemed to be going from bad to worse, if that could even happen.

    “Hello, fraulein.” He said, walking over to the table, “I hope you are enjoying your stay.”

    I just ignored him, hoping that it would be enough to make him step back, leave the room, run away and never come back. None of those things happened, but I tried nonetheless. Some of the Russians had taken steps back, but I guess it didn't look all that scary anymore, now that I was weaker and tired, and not able to tell some of what was real, and what was not.

Zola picked up a syringe from the trays beside Bucky and stabbed it into his chest when he started to strangle one of the doctors, before picking up another one. I couldn't help but smile to myself for the action, but I knew that the second syringe was most likely for me. It was probably yet another version of the Super Soldier Serum, only improved. 

    And I was right. Zola came up to me, and stabbed the needle into my chest; going limp almost immediately. Yes, it burned just like the other versions I'd been given, but I didn't notice it much. Guess there was an upside to being weak and tired… Pain ended up being dulled because it just wasn't important. 

“You’re… Never going to win.” I told him through gritted teeth, “There’ll always be somebody like Steve… And the Howling Commandos… To stop you. And whoever it is… They’ll make sure you suffer.”

“We’ll be ready for them then.”

The table I was on, started to move backwards. It made me grip the edge of the metal table, for fear that I’d fall off, even though I knew that would never happen; given the fact that they’d tied me to it. It was like falling, and you instinctively reached for the closest thing you could.

“Men like you, never win.”

"Just you wait and see, Fraulein." 

His smirk just seemed to get bigger, as the hauled me from the table, and put me in a tall, metal cylinder, and closed the door; locking it. It had a small window in the door, where I could still see Zola’s face, staring at me.

Then it started to go get really cold. I raised my hand to try and push the door open, only to find that ice had started to form on it. The glass in the door started to freeze over as well, and it started to get really hard to breathe, so I closed my eyes, and just hoped for the best; wishing that I'd been able to see Bucky just one last time. 


	12. Hail HYDRA!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lead up to the next book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and gals. This is it! The final chapter of the story. Like I said last week, the second part of the story won't be up when I wanted (which was about June) because of the moving, and getting sorted, and all that. It's looking more like September will be the next story will be posted.
> 
> Anyway. Thanks to all those who have reviewed, commented, subscribed, favourited, and all that jazz. And another thank you to everybody who has stuck with this story over the past weeks.
> 
> Please R&R and comment if you want.
> 
> T.C
> 
> PS. Boot = Trunk. I'm British, get over my English spelling. Plus, Regina is British.
> 
> PPS. I just realized that some people could have been mispronouncing Regina's name. It's pronounced Reg-Ena.
> 
> PPPS. I JUST SAW THE NEW TRAILER (which wasn't out when I posted) AND AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! I screamed a little, and scared my mama, and then told her she better be prepared to go to the midnight showing, cause I planned to be there, and she was coming too. If only the UK was doing that 31-hour Marvel marathon. I'd be at that too.
> 
> ~oOo~

** Chapter 12 **

**Hail HYDRA!**

    I felt like I was losing who I was. Our days consisted of the same things – get up, eat, train, and so on. And if we didn’t do what HYDRA wanted us to, we went to the Memory Suppressing Machine, which they used to suppress our memories, and as a way to brainwash us. After consistent usage, it started to erase our memories completely. Only a few to begin with, but eventually, it took all of them.

    Every day, without fail, they would recite ten simple, unassuming words, that when said, would give HYDRA full control of our minds, and in turn, would give them control of our bodies.

    They would say the words when they put us in the MSM as well, so that we were sure to remember them subconsciously, and would recognize the words, even if we couldn’t remember them. So no matter what they did to us, they would always have control over us. Even if we did manage to escape, they would always be able to lead us back to where they wanted, do whatever they wanted.

    Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car. Who would’ve thought that these words could turn us into brainwashed zombies? Soldiers who’d been forced into this life, even though we couldn’t remember how we got into it, or the life we might’ve had before any of this started. I wanted so desperately to remember.

    Did we have a family before this? Friends? Where had we lived? What had our jobs been? Or had this been our life before? Were we scientists who’d volunteered for this life? But then, who would willingly choose a life like this? No, I liked to think that somebody out there missed us, and had never stopped trying to find out what had happened to us.

The Winter Soldier Program is what they called this project we were involved with, and to make sure we knew who was who, they called Bucky, Soldier, and I was called Phantom. We were both being trained to be ghosts, where people didn't know what we looked like, but everybody was afraid. Nobody wanted to be on our hit list because they knew that no matter how much protection they had, we would stop at nothing to kill our target – even if it meant taking the lives of the innocent. It was our jobs, and something told me I’d done this before.

    So over the years of our captivity and torture, we trained and trained. In everything from hand-to-hand, to weapons – from knives to pistols, to rifles, and everything in between – and languages. Everything we learned, seemed familiar, but it was just one of those things that didn't seem to make sense to me. Why would I recognize it, if I'd never done it before? 

    We killed scientists who threatened our cause, a president who defied to comply with what we wanted, politicians who wouldn’t do as we told them. All they had to do, was put us in the MSM, say those ten words in Russian, and then tell us what they wanted us to do.

    Not once did we ever ask if what we were doing was right, because this was all we knew. I might not like it, but what else were we suppose to do? If we complained about what we were doing, then we had our heads put in the metaphorical blender, until we learned not to say anything, or we wouldn't remember what we were complaining about in the first place.

Without a doubt, the thing I hated most about this place, wasn’t the killing, or the training, or the disorientation I always felt when we woke up. It was the Memory Suppressing Machine. They would put something in our mouths to bite down on, and then our arms our get restrained, before part of the machine lowered onto both sides of our faces, and electricity started to shock us. It wasn’t like a small electric shock, it was the most painful thing you could think of, multiplied by ten. Whenever I was put in it, it always caused me to scream.

    Anybody standing round the machine when it was on, could hear the electricity running through it. And you could hear the screams echoing throughout the building, depending on whether the doors were open or not. I could still remember the Soldier screaming round the mouth guard when he didn't comply with an order they gave him. 

All my uniforms, and the Soldiers metal arm had the Red Star of Soviet Union emblazoned on the left shoulder, as a sort of brand or stamp to show who we belonged to. And they had a lot of pockets, and straps to put weapons in – Glock 19, SIG-Sauer P226 pistol, SIG-Sauer P220ST, COP 357 Derringer, TEC-38, S. Vz.61 Skorpion, and any knives we wanted. If we needed any other weapons for missions, we were handed to us before we left. Old weapons got swapped out with newer ones as the times changed, and that seemed to be every time we woke up.

The Soldiers hair slowly grew in length; going past his ears, to his shoulders. The long hair just added more to the mystery of who we were. It was always left down, and it helped hide our faces when we didn't have the masks on and helped us look more menacing – like the metal arm and weapons weren’t enough to do that already, we had to make them even more afraid to go outside.

    Shadows became our best friend. The dark uniforms and hair helped us blend into the night. A lot of the time, the first our target saw of us, was the slight glint that came from the Soldiers metal arm in the moonlight. And by that time, it was too late to run away from us. With our increased speed, strength and reflexes, they never even had the chance escape.

    We were the perfect soldiers that people dreamed of, but we eventually we faded into a rumor. A myth that our enemies told to their children as bedtime stories. I mean, who would believe in the assassins who didn’t seem to age?

    When we weren’t on missions, we were inside the Siberian Facility. Time seemed to travel differently when we were there. People seemed to age faster, but we still remained the same, never seeming to age.

    And then a mission came through. It was just like any other mission, where we woke up disorientated, got put in the MSM while the ten words were said, and given our task. It was simple. Quick. Something that we could have done in just a few minutes, not including the days travel we had to do to get to the location.

Hiding in the trees, we just had to wait for our target to pass us by. We didn't know their face or name, but we'd been told what kind of car they were driving, and we knew that they were carrying something very valuable to HYDRA. We were to get it and leave no witnesses. 

Then the car drove past. The Soldier turned on the headlight of the motorcycle, and we were off, following the car for a little bit, before we raced past. I shot out the passenger side window, causing the car to crash into a tree before we turned the bike around to park behind the now smoking wreck. 

    I checked the boot for the package – making sure that everything was there – before we walked around to the driver's side. There was a man with white hair laying on the ground. It wasn’t from the result of the crash, he’d dragged himself out, but was too weak to stand.

    “Help my wife. Please. Help.” He said, but we were there to do a job, not help them, but to kill them.

The Soldier grabbed the man by his hair and hoisted him up. I saw him hesitate a little bit, almost like he recognized the man. Something in the back of my head recognized him as well, but I just couldn't place him. And the man looked at us, almost pleadingly, like he was hoping we'd figure out who he was. 

    “Sergeant Barnes? Beth?”

At his words, flashes of memories came back. It wasn't enough to tell me about my past life, but it was enough to make me realize that I knew this man, and I'd known the Soldier before the life we'd been living for however long it was. The man in my memories looked younger, but I knew it was him. We’d been friends, we’d worked together, argued with each other, joked around. I thought, for one glancing moment, that we might have been best friends in a previous life.

    “Howard!” A woman cried, causing my concentration to be broken, and reminding me of what we were here to do, “Howard!”

    We still had a job. We were told ‘no witnesses,’ so there weren’t going to be any. The Soldier started pounding the old man hard in the face with his metal fist, and before long, the man slumped over, dead.

    While the Soldier put him back in the driver’s seat, with his face against the steering wheel, I walked around the car to terminate the passenger. She didn’t put up much of a fight. Along with the crash, and seeing her husband dead, would probably be enough to send anybody into shock. It made killing her a lot easier, as she didn’t try to fight me when I started to strangle her with one hand.

    When we got back to Siberia, we were given congratulations on a mission successfully completed. In the morning, we were told that everybody believed the death of the man and his wife, was just a tragic accident.

    But the package we’d been sent to collect, had a dangerous consequence. Five people were having the bright blue fluid fed into their systems, and it was causing them pain. They would scream, but Karpov just made notes and listened to them from his office. Until, one day, when they all stopped.

    Then it was time to test them. To see how strong they were, and if they could defeat us - the Soldier and the Phantom. And they could. They were stronger than us, but they were also more volatile, more erratic, unruly, and they were too unpredictable to be put into the field. They would attack anything, including the people trying to help them.

    And that’s when it was decided to put each of them in a Cryostasis Chamber, where they would remain. HYDRA didn’t want to get rid of them, even though they were a failed experiment.

Then it was the same for us until we were needed again, when we were sent to kill a scientist being escorted out of Iran. We caught up with them when they got near to Odessa, in the Ukraine. I shot out the tires of the vehicle they were driving, and they lost control; going straight over a cliff. Nobody could survive something like that.

    I heard another shot though, so I knew that one of them had to have survived, despite what I thought. Didn’t know which one had, or if it had been both, but the Soldier wouldn’t leave a survivor. He’d kill anybody who got in his way. We had never failed a mission, and we weren’t going to do so now.

** ~oOo~ **

It could have been months, or even years before I was next brought out of my Cryostasis Chamber. What I found weird though, was that they weren't bringing out the Soldier as well. We always worked missions together, but he stayed in his chamber, looking peaceful as he slept; not knowing what was going on around him.

    When I saw the MSM, I wanted to cry. They were sending me on a mission without my Soldier. It was the first time this had ever happened, and it frightened me. Even though it was an irrational fear, it felt wrong to be doing this without him by my side. Without him having my back. We were a team.

    My arms were locked into place, the machine went over my face, and the electricity ran through my head. I screamed around the mouth guard, but it did little use. Off to the side, I could hear the trigger words being said.

    “ _Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car._ " One of my handlers yelled in Russian; his voice being heard over the sound of my screams, and of the electricity running through the machine.

    The machine was shut off, releasing my head, the restraints unlocked, and the mouth guard was taken away, but I was just a shell. The words had been said, and now I just had to wait to be greeted, and given my mission.

    “ _Good morning, Phantom._ ”

    “ _Ready to comply._ "

 


End file.
